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Where to Put My Love

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There are parts of herself that she’s forgotten. Ones that laid dormant, that had long given up scratching and clawing at surfaces they knew they’d never get out of. She had once told him that he knew her better than she knew herself. So maybe it made sense that once he came back, he drug those parts that she’d rather have forgotten right back along with him. The realization that it was so quiet inside because those forgotten bits had somehow made their escape, had stunted her delusion of progress – the progress she made of living life without him. The ice cold awakening of it all that made her ache for the comfortable warmth of obliviousness once again. But through that awakening, and what she often perceives as the misfortune of others being more aware of her feelings than herself, she’s aiming to ask him one very important question. To ask herself … one very important question.  


"Where do I put my love?"  


Because if he will not have it, then there’s nowhere else for it to go.