Three Months

It's been three months.

I still remember how you looked when you stepped out of the door. You were wearing your favorite skinny jeans, striped tee, and denim jacket that look so good on you. You said you had to go to your bandmate/best friend's house, said he had new ideas for your upcoming album. I didn't want you to leave, though. I wanted you to stay. I always do. You know that I hate to be left alone, especially when you're home. But this time, I felt something different. I felt like something wasn't right. But I let you go anyway.

You promised you'd be back and you always did. But that night, you didn't. Some jerk decided to drink and drive that night and run a red light. The police said you were... gone right away. You didn't feel pain. They thought it would calm me down, make the pain away. But it didn't and it never will.

I wish it was temporary, but you're never going home. I will never send you away for tour again, nor will I welcome you home. I will never see your goofy smile every time I tried to tickle you. I will never get to see you play in front of hundreds of people across the world.

It's been only three months and I can't live without you.