mirrors.

it feels as if you are gone. i can't find you. can't reach you, and you brushed my head with your lips before leaving for work, just this morning.
you asked why i was fighting so hard to stay with you, why the thought of you finding some other square on the map to call home scared me so much. how simply you asked that chilled me to the bone; my heart choked slightly in its own explanation- but that's something i simply cannot communicate to you.
you waited patiently for my answer with words- not one verbal reason as to why the thought of no longer holding you at night or being privy to your fears and doubts and dreams and hopes left me breathless and sick. the ideas of never being able to wake up to you buried into my chest, of not sharing small stories from our day or anecdotes from our lives, or the loss of our inside jokes for almost every topic, sat writhing and twisting in my gut.
i met your gaze and felt more lead drop down my throat- you had already separated yourself. you were already gone, a million miles away- and i was left naked on your bed.
because it feels right
that ugly answer fell from my mouth and lay between us.
at your silence, i crawled into my head, locking the door behind me.