Sitting Under the Stars

Sometimes late at night I cannot sleep

I would go downstairs from my apartment

I would go with my book and write.

I would write when I’m sad, drunk or just in the mood. I would write just to pass the hours. But most importantly I would write to erase you.

Under the stars I would sit and contemplate. I would think and I would drink.

I was intoxicated with the thought of you, the memory.

The after image of you sitting there in the passenger seat. Right next to me every day for almost a year.

I would sit there in my chair and think of the good times.

Those times you would cuddle up to me, watching the TV.

Binge watching a show or just watching a movie.

Falling asleep halfway. Not aware of what’s going on. Or thinking of those times we would go for strolls. Just thinking of you, imagining you finally kissing me only to remember we never got there. Both of us being to scared. Of the public’s eye, keeping you a secret.

Under the stars the only place you could be found, in my memories.

How do I go, a day without you here, next to me, but only in a after image reflected by the stars that I sit under.