When I talk about you now,

I don’t want to call you my "ex-best friend"

Just because you were my best friend once

But you aren't anymore.

That feels like it negates the time we spent together,

And you were more important than that.

But that's the only way I can think of to explain us,

Because people don't understand

The pain that shoots through my heart and down my arms

And the lump that threatens to form in my throat

And the sadness that congeals into a weight in my stomach

When I try to tell a story about you.

I've never been through a breakup,

But I imagine it feels something like this.

And if I ever hear the words,

"It's not you, it's me," again,

I will probably scream because

If it's not my fault, why'd you still leave?

I try to only think about the good things.

I try to understand what happened with the not good things.

I can still hear your laugh.

I remember that you snort sometimes,

And your nose crinkles.

I hope you still laugh. I wouldn't know.