over three months

Remember laying in my bed telling me it'd only been two months and we'd be together again?
"This is my home."
I still miss you. I don't know if I was kidding myself when I said I didn't or if I've regressed.

My best guess tells me I'm a distant memory and you went to the city and home became a memory with me.

You jacket, shorts, and shoes ended up in our free pile when I couldn't look at them in the corner of my room any more. But I couldn't part with the albums you trusted to me when you left.

I still look for you sitting on the corner of Lexington and Walnut playing you banjo some nights when I'm walking around town alone.