Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf’s caramel iced latte.

Pink Pistachio’s Japanese souffle cake and peppermint green tea.

Rina’s beef brisket sandwich.

Gloria Jean’s black coffee. 

Strawberry gum. 

Berry-flavored smoke. 

French tips.

Chanel perfume because the YSL one was super rare.

Lama’s black puffer jacket- size small.

Four days, that tug at my heartstrings.

You twiddle with your annular finger’s rings.

Subtly lick your lips every two minutes because they dry up after you talk.

You pull out your snug retainers every time you have to eat.

You breathe loudly every time you enjoy your food. 

The second bite was mine. 

I was always meant to be number two.

You pull your hair away from your face - a power move.

You throw your head back every time the laugh is worth the while. 

The crackle in your laugh. 

The red rose from your city withers in the pages of my Parisian diary. 

Cosmopolitan - hand-poured soy candle.

Lindt 70% cocoa intense dark chocolate.

Uniworth’s musical note brooch pin. 

Three cards from Polly and Other Stories - Harry Potter-themed.

And two hand embroidered handkerchiefs - one bearing your initials and the other intertwining both of ours, dated with what today has become my eschaton. 

Your memories along with your gifts disintegrate in the last drawer of my dressing table. 

Breathing seems like an effort without you.

Moving seems inconsequential without you.

Progressing seems wrong without you.

You would take so much pride in your honesty. 

Alas, I had to be the bearer of when your honesty broke character. 

Just the thought of you holds the power of destroying me inside out, all over again. 

The sound of your laughter haunts me, and my own laughter seems foreign, a relic of the past to me.