I Left My Aviators

This is how much I don't think of me. When I was only thinking of Jason, my aviators were always at the collar of my shirt. Waiting for any moment of eye leakage or the emotion that rides my face when I don't know it. I can hide my scowl, upset, and worried looks. But of course. The dam must have broken and I moved a notch on the grief scale.

I read something today and I cried. I cried a long over due release of emotion and 34 minutes later I wasn't completely finished but I needed to board a train and make it into work. 

I needed to move on.

But I left my fucking aviators