• When I leave your house, I go around gathering all of my belongings and removing any evidence that I was there as though I’m leaving a crime scene. I do my best to wipe away any trace that I existed. Nothing has ever prompted me to do so, it is just a ritual I’ve cultivated. It has become my standard practice, like checking to make sure I’ve locked the door (I do that as well). The first few times I left after staying the night I would leave you notes. Something cute or sweet to find when you returned home for the night. I stopped when I realized they most likely made a very short journey from your counter to the trash. That idea made my my heart ache some, though I’m not sure why. I think that may have been when I became extra careful not to leave anything behind. To make the bed as it was, before we layed together in it. To fold the throw blanket in the living room and replace the pillows "just so". To make my presence not only unnoticeable but nonexsistant. I have no idea why I do this. I’m not sure if it’s to make your house more tidy to come home to, or to make it easier for you to forget that I was ever here at all. The strangest part of all is I want more than anything for you, when you’re lying in your bed at night to remember me there exactly as I was, beside you.