She Knew

She laid in bed alone with only the hum of the fan in the room. She could still smell the reminense of the candle she had blown out minutes ago.

As she felt the warmth of her skin linger into the covers she thought about you. She tried remembering your words, but she couldn't. She tried remembering your warmth, but it had faded. She could only remember fragments of you. Pieces that really never fit together.

As she continued to lay in bed and allow the heaviness of her eyes to take over, she began to feel a peace and gratitude overwhelm her heart.

You were never meant to stay, boy.

She knew, you were never meant to stay.