The one empty pillow.

There is one empty pillow.

When you left, I could see the things you had scattered around the room. Frames of your father and black tank tops you used to wear—you said we would be together forever, and in some ways, you were right. But I still cry when my head hits the pillow at night. All I can see is this infinite loop between me and you about what we once did and can never do. I'm still in love with you. So please come home soon and your room will always be there. Because I still care.