Aftermath

Remember when we joked about how it's okay for me to leave, after you've gone? 
Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone off first instead, ahead of you.

It hurts to be the one left behind.
Ever since my last post, I've been working hard at getting over you.
It's hard though, because there's traces of you everywhere.
I walk into the room and I still expect to see you behind that desk. I swear I can still smell your cologne in the corridor. That's how I always knew the moment you came to work. I check my inbox and I still expect to see your name, see you sending mails to me. I still expect to hear your voice when I call your line.
And against my will, I start thinking of you. And wishing you were really here.

You've left nothing for me to be able to contact you.
All I have is your email for work.
Should I drop you a message?
I want to know how you are. 
I wonder if you'd want to know how I am too.