Postcards and Polaroids

I went back to my mom’s house. It was late, and she’d be sleeping. I’d have to be quiet. I quickly climbed up to my bedroom window. I always kept it unlocked. I slowly opened the window, and slid inside, carefully shutting it behind me.
I lied down. It had been a while since I’ve been in my own bed. I sighed, looking around the room, or what I could see of it in the dark at least. I wrapped myself in my blankets, but couldn’t manage to fall asleep. My mind was racing. All I thought about was Kellin. His yelling replayed over and over in my mind.
”..maybe I don’t want you there.”

It broke my heart each time. That wasn’t my Kellin. I sat up, looking out the window. The street lights shone on the streets. The dew on the grass made it shine under the spot light. I smiled. Kellin always noticed things like this. He always noticed the beauty that no one else could see. I looked over, and found his shirt at the bottom of my bed. I bit my lip, picking it up. It still smelt like him. I felt my heart break again. My eyes began to water. I exchanged my shirt for his, and tried once again to get myself to sleep. It was even more impossible than before. I could smell him from his shirt. Every time I closed my eyes, it felt like he was here. But every time I reached out, I was reminded that I was alone.
The pain in my chest got worse. This is what people were talking about when they said they had a broken heart. I finally understood. The tears came back, and I let them fall. I was empty without him. I had nothing. He was everything to me. He was my first everything. He was everything I’ve ever known, and without him, now I was nothing.

I hid my face in my pillow, and quietly cried myself to sleep.