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The Bookmark

“What’s making you sad?”

She asked me.

“It’s not really sadness.

It’s more like a disconnect.

From everyone


Normal things”

“I don’t make it more difficult to sleep when I’m next to you,

do I?”

She was propped up on one elbow, staring at me.

I was staring up at the ceiling, into nothingness.

“It’s got it’s pros and cons.

Like everything” I said.

“You know that disconnect you’re talking about?

I’ve felt it everyday for the last six months.

I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me? “

I rolled over and looked at her.

“Nothing is wrong with you doll.”

I pushed her bangs back behind her ear.

“It’s everything else that’s a little wrong.”

I kissed her on the forehead and went to sleep.

When I woke up,

she was gone.


She left a note,

“Going to try to reconnect.

I’ll miss you Chester.

Call or text anytime.

Don’t drink too much while I’m gone.

I’ll know if you do.”

There was a red lipstick imprint at the bottom.

I grabbed my book

And took out the bookmark.

I tossed it in the trash.

I nicely folded up her note.

And replaced it as my bookmark.

I grabbed some orange juice from the fridge.

Picked up a bottle of vodka

And made a drink.

I sat down with my drink

And wondered if I’d ever see her again.

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