Every Day is the Worst Day of My Life

Wed, 10/19/2016 - 16:55 -- kpgoode

The day I had to leave was the worst day of my life. Waking up to the sun shining in your room, the roaring sound of the morning city travelers, and the quiet sound of your breathing filled the empty room. Laying there, waiting for you to wake up, I found myself staring at the white stale ceiling, realizing that this was our last day. This is the last day I will see your eyes stare into mine with the same sadness as if someone you knew just died. The ache I feel in my heart has me thinking that you could be the one. Our quiet awkward breakfast of bad coffee and burnt toast had me feeling like this was a bad ending to an awful breakup. But in reality it was worse. Leaving someone you love has a harder impact than leaving someone you just like. The walk to your car felt like I was walking the plank on a ship that I never thought I would be leaving. The drive through the city was not as exciting and colorful as it was before. It felt so gray and dull. It was as if me leaving has drained all of the color out of the world just leaving us the simple color of gray. As we pulled up to my house, we were both as quite as a mouse. We were both scared on the idea that in a few months, maybe even a few weeks, things might be different. Our lives are changing so fast that we might not be able to keep up with each other. As we were saying our goodbyes I held in my tears for I was afraid to show you how weak I really felt. Our last hug made me realize that the smell of your favorite cologne will only linger on me for so long. When you drove away the tears started to roll down my face as if there was a gray dreary rain storm only above my face. Ever since that day things have been different and not always in the best. I still wake up every morning to the sun shining in my room, the roaring sound of college kids going to class, and to the sight of my empty bed. Even though the same picture is produced morning by morning. It doesn’t get better. My heart still drops one hundred floors just thinking about the fact that you are gone. Leaving my room will still give me the same feelings I felt on that awful day. Talking on the phone with you every night I still find myself holding in the tears just like that day. When we hang up that gray dreary rain storm comes back and it lingers above my face. Eventually, the day will come where we can meet again, but until then I guess everyday will be the worst day of my life.

This poem is about: 
Me

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