I sit, writing in purple ink.

Perched upon the table. 

Boxes fill the studio. Am I intruding? This is not my space. 

She would have told me. Right?

Papers are scattered across the table. I reach down to touch the crumpled pages that I share a seat with. 

The fluorescents flicker. I put my feet on the floor. The cold squeezes between my toes. I shuffle to the light.

Darkness fills the room. Who cares? Isn’t that why you come out here? 

A knock at the door fills the silence. The door opens. A creature crawls in. It makes a noise. What was that? I can’t make it out.

I sit back down. It creeps over to me. I reach a hand out to touch it. It has fur. My hand glides over the velvety hair. My eyes are swelling. I’m not sad. What is going on?

The music plays faster. I look for the soul I once shared breath with. Nowhere to be found.

Where did her studio go? This room is forgien. Is it? I should be working. I have too much to do. I don't have time for this. I have to go. Do I care? 

Rain pounds harder. This is my favorite time. All have gone to sleep. I am free. Well, free from them. Wait. 

Why is the rain belaboring my roof? What have the tiles done to anger the sky? It can’t rain this hard. I feel my pulse. 

My lip hurts. My chin is wet. I wipe it with my sleeve. Red? 

Bad song, Next.

There are too many words in my head. They won't move. So determined. 

God I hate this song. 

I look down at my hands. My fresh nail polish is chipped. Is it fresh? When did I do it?

What am I wearing! I rip off my jacket. The cold wraps around my body like a blanket. 

The light flickers again. But I just-

The hoodie sits on the concrete. Surrounded by years of paint, sweat, and tears, it chooses to stay. Why?

 It reminds me of her. It shouldn’t. 

I think I love her.

 Not in the cheesey way that when I wake up in the morning I will miss her. I love her in the way that she fills my head before I fall asleep. I love her because without a doubt, she fills me with the soul of someone I am not. She creates something better. 

I don’t love her in a romantic way. I love her in the way that I owe my life and everything I own to her. I love her because she is me. No she isn’t.

 Does it matter? 

She put me first. 

My eyes close once more.

GOD I HATE THIS SONG!! 

My face is wet again. I don't care enough to check what it is. 

The rain falls harder. 

I stand then fall. 

My face is pressed against the bitter cement. 

Something puddles on the pavement. The cement feels warm now. 

My eyes see blacker than they have ever seen before. My soul has nothing left to give. My mind has nothing left to think. My body has no places left to go. 

But I am here. The creature appears. I reach once more for the soft fuzz. 

It grabs my arm. She pulls me home.