loveless

is what your marriage has become as you glance across at your sleeping husband and then down to your silver wedding ring

a once blossomed friendship turned marriage, a house, a couple of kids now lifeless and lacking of anything that a husband and wife should be

‘I can’t believe I let you get away’

a whispered curse to yourself while sitting on the edge of your shared bed at 2am with simon riley’s number, written on a scrap of paper, in your hand urging yourself to text the number

the man you should have built a life with