Driving alone has gotten a lot noisier since you left.
The car sings, and sometimes, it sounds just like you.
My phone’s autocomplete has forgotten you,
but my fingers still know their way to your name.
Your friends and I text regularly now,
and I don’t bring up your name when we call.
I no longer hesitate to order your favourite drink;
I’m remembering it used to be my favourite too.
I like to think that I’ve come a long way,
and that I’ve healed and moved on.
But if someone were to trace my steps,
I know they’d still find traces of you.
Written by Jou Hatsu
