And like a jump backwards you pop back into my life again. I never closed the door. Purposely I left it open in case you decided to peak in to see what I had been doing. The truth was: Not much. A new job right before we stopped talking, a new apartment, and a DUI are the only headlines about what news would be going on with me. Saying it like that; It sounds like I’ve had a lot going on, but to put it plainly:
Not much has happened with me since you broke off from our spaceship that was leaving the Earth’s atmosphere. Leaving me to man a two person vessel full of your belongings. Getting up and leaving the cockpit to eat use to be painful. Tripping over our coffee breaks and lunch dates on the way to the kitchen. Interesting how I don’t smoke now after meeting you.
Well, maybe twice a month, but does that even count? Probably because every puff would be a reminder of what happened between us. Smoking is already bad for me. I can’t justify it when having to deal with two deadly side effects.