The Pretty Box.

I've been given a lot of guidance during my breakup.

Some I've needed to get through the day.

Other advice I don't need so much.

I try to be kind because I know they're being supportive.

But sometimes I want to scream "That's not how I feel!"

Instead I just nod when I hear it.

He's a dickhead.

You will find someone worlds above him.

You need to stop thinking about him.

Let go.

Move on.

Okay, fine, the tears slide down my face.

So I packed it all up in a pretty little box.

With black wrapping paper and shiny black ribbon.

Just like I gave him for Christmas.

I packed it away, stuffed it inside, and topped it with a bow.

Putting everything inside it.

Your smile, our jokes, the art that I made for you, and all our love.

I climb to a place high above you like they said.

Standing there at the edge and listening to all that support.

If it's the right thing to do, if it's the only way to move on.

Move on, move on, move on.

This is me letting go of you...

But then we are laying in bed, I look over and see you smiling at me.

A text pops up from you saying "You are so freaking beautiful".

We're playing Fortnite for the first time.

Because this is everything inside this box.

Your face is only one I see when the box slips from my fingers.

Suddenly dropping that box into the canyon below hurts so much worse.

I've never grabbed something so quickly, pulling it back to my chest.

I'd rather live with this wonderful pain than let it go.

So I put the box somewhere safe and comfortable.

For all the advice I've been given and all the words I've tried to hard to accept, fuck all of it.

I'm making my own way with heartache.

I will take everything with me before throwing it away.