I could still feel his kiss. I could still smell his cologne mixed with his soap and all that made him smell so amazing. I could still picture the deflated look in his eyes when I woke up to find him sitting at the end of the couch. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes, he was there—I could see him clear as day. Every time I opened my eyes, I could smell him and feel his touch. Every time I tried to block it out, all I could feel was the pain. The pain was more real than anything.