What really hurts..

“the things that hurt the most
aren’t the things you would expect to hurt
it’s not waking up in the middle of the night to touch you and realizing you’re not there and shaking until my bones break
it’s not crying myself to sleep and drowning in my own tears because your voice won’t get out of my head
it’s not collapsing on the ground in shallow breaths and a head spilling over with memories of you because I’m being choked by your absence and how much I miss you
those things hurt too, of course
but the things that really fucking kill are the little things
like the list of things in my head that I can’t wait to tell you later but I know they will stay locked in my chest, piling up and never come tumbling out of my mouth like they used to
and it’s listening to one radio station the whole car ride without your fingers hitting all the buttons and the static between each station until you find a song you can sing along to. It’s the way dust is quietly settling on top of all my things because you used to clean everything all the time, you couldn’t stand messes.
It’s the few tangles in my hair when I wake up because I’ve been tossing and turning in my sleep more than I ever did when you loved me. 
It’s the slight crack in my voice on the rare occasions that you call because I’m not really sure how to talk to you anymore.”