Silence: golden or stifling? or a modern blend?

Tasting old memories is sometimes bitter.
Today it is absolutely delicious.
An anticipated ice cream cone that melts quickly in a hot, carefree summer day.
My mouth waters, especially by that hole where the wisdom tooth used to inhabit.
Is my soul that starved?

Smelling a change.
Just a few days before the tears would not stop.
Can he be trusted?
I debate and settle on a definite maybe.

Hearing my friends talk of their current loves makes me smile and drift
along proverbial memory lane, sidestepping a few potholes along the way.
Where did I put my rose-colored glasses?

I touch the side where he used to be.
I can sniff his cologne if I burrow in his tattered t-shirt.
The one I wanted him to discard.
And now I’m the one who can’t toss it.
Or the related memories.
I miss him so much.

Will I ever get over dangerous habits?

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