Detachment.

You sat, legs slightly crossed
On the windowsill. Though

I knew that it couldn't rain on the inside,

I could still feel things were damp.

You laughed, a sound so full

But yet, even with you here,

I felt so empty. You looked out
And I felt my heart clutch
Desperately at words never said.

So instead,

I reached up and brush your cheek,
And as you looked around,

I felt content. Almost as if you were

Back from a journey.

You leaned on tattered patterned tartan cushions,

Saying they still do what they 

Were made to do.

I don't know how you couldn't see

The way they were broken, bent, battered.

But I had to agree.

I couldn't risk setting you free.

The threadbare rug served it's

Multiple uses to us in the past.

Half bed, half sofa, half table.

So many purposes.

Yet not one of them fully fulfilled.

We laid our floor ourselves.

The small rush when the antique pine

Clicked

Into place. We imagined it'd stay forever

Shining, almost gleaming.

But it wasn't real, just plastic.

And after a whole they were scratched,

Bruised, dented. But we convinced ourselves

They should stay where they are.

You put together the lamp.

I remember looking for a shade, until

You told me there wasn't a reason for one.

It would only get in the way.

But sometimes, when you're gone.

I try to sit and read, but it's too bright

And the very thought, brings tears

To my eyes.

We didn't bother with a dimmer.

"All or nothing"

You kept saying that.

Over and over again. And

I found myself believing.

We decided we didn't need curtains.

We had nothing to hide.

No point in deceiving

Not only ourselves, but

Those looking in on what we said

Was just perfect.

In the night, I used to wait for you

Sitting on the bed come sofa come table

But just paranoid, that there was someone else

Peering in from the darkness.

The sofa finally did arrive

All sleek and bright

Almost intrusively so.

But it was fine, we had agreed

That we needed to liven up.

We laughed, we cried, we loved

On that thing.

Now I almost pity it.

It seems lifeless, torn in places

And just...

So dull.

I miss when it used to be

So happily red.

But still I cradle your head.

But with a difference.

After I found the messages

I finally got it. Everything had been 

Ebbing away.

All your words and promises

Turned to ash at my feet.

And as you sat there

On the bed come sofa come table

And begged.

And told me that you were sorry.

But still I saw it in your eyes.

The ones which from that moment on

I could never meet.

You took my trust.

And neatly cut it in two.

I was a half.

And now so are you.