8-5-4

854 more miles to go.

854 dreadful miles of torture.

As I count down every mile stick along the highway I keep torturing myself with the many words filling every possible sentence that is written on your final goodbye.

You handed me the socks I left behind and inside it contained the last words of our story.

Here it is oh this dreadful fuc**ng day.

The same day that I’ve been dreading for a very long time.

Here you handed me the same letter that I’ve been trying to write for months.

The same letter that I so cowardly could never hand to you.

The same letter that has sat on my mind with the intention to be written but could never wrap my mind around the idea of ever saying goodbye.

Today you beat me to it.

A big part of me knew I was too much of a coward to ever do it.

How many times did I sit here talking to myself back and forth going thru every possible scenario of how this last conversation could of gone.

Nothing more than a simple conversation, one last kiss, and the words that hold closure to our dearest love.

One last smile as I drove away one last time.

854 more miles as this letter that sits besides me is opened to deliver yet another heartbreak.

Somehow it feels like a whole different type of HURT. A whole different level of PAIN.

For this time I am no longer saying goodbye to my lover.

For this time I am saying goodbye to my dearest friend.

854 more miles to go; until we reach our final goodbye.