If I love again,
There’s never going to be
The same scent of cologne you wear
Or the same way it feels to be intertwined with you.
There’s never going to be sitting at tattoo appointments in silence because you have a migraine
Or the smell of pumpkin bread and fresh air in the middle of November two years ago.
There’s never going to be stealing pumpkins from a pumpkin patch
Or kissing in a water park in late October.
There’s never going to be another first time on a plane going to see my sister
Or going with your family to cut down a Christmas tree
Or spending three months straight playing Mario Kart almost every night.
Once one of us leaves,
It’s all gone.
- And it’s never coming back.