I am happy, I think. Some days I wonder if I know who I am without you, but what does it matter if I will never be without you? We are happy, I think.

I cover myself in the pity of missing you. In the realisation I might be nothing without you. In the urge to tell you about my day. In knowing you don't want to hear it. In rejection.

I wasn't ready. I rushed into something new too soon just to feel wanted and I regret it now. I can't take it back, but I can take a breath and refocus.

I am something now, without you.