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The Worst Day Ever

This morning when i woke up. I reached out wanting her. Finding nothing but the morning cold in place of her warm body. I found myself...pressing my eyes closed wanting to pretend that if i streched my arms a bit further, i would find my fingertips gracing her curvacious back. I strech, and strech not wanting to admit to myself that shes no longer there. I strech my arms across that space for miles it seems, hands slowly reaching longer than the shadows of morning in the bed room. And when my hand does touch upon something, its always her pillow. That carrys the light scent of her...what was that fragrance that i found myself missing? The one that i had taken for granted.... Its almost gone now i tell myself as i inhale slowly. In a few days i know that even that will be only a memory. I find myself outside myself, looking at a man in a bed alone, pressing pillows to his nose....with his eyes still clenched shut. I watch myself slowly roll over sighing regrets of things said, and things unsaid...I whisper out "Miracle" and a flash of a pink perfume bottle in her hands plays on my memories...that was what she wore, that was the only fragrance that could ever suit her. How much longer would i awake could i awake with these sorrowful mornings? Each one a reminder that today....if she is not here...is the worst day ever.
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