Dear friend,

Dear friend

You know when the sun rises in the morning and you roll out of bed with sleep in your eyes and morning breath you can't wait to rid yourself of? That feeling of uncleanliness that appeared seemingly out of nowhere while you were sleeping, dead to the world, and dreaming of happier places?

That's how I felt this morning when I sat up and finally pulled the curtain on my life; that the taste of that bad breath had devoured my essence and left me breathing out toxic air that tainted everything.

Your sweet scent alludes me and I can't quite remember how you looked with tousled morning hair and half closed eyes. Standing at your window, back to me, silken robe draped around your slender shoulders. It's almost as if you had never stood here at all.

I brushed my teeth then. Twice. With your toothbrush.

Now I'm writing you this letter to tell you how I fucked up. Because if I had just stepped back from the window as you undressed, had I just let you slip away into the shadows, you never would have turned and caught my eye as I looked on.

Oh friend, how I wish I had averted my eyes. I wouldn't have had to do what I did then.

Now I'm standing here, where you stood then, holding that silk robe between my fingers and tasting the bad breath on my lips.

Always,

And goodbye.