March 1, 2011 § Leave a comment
The most horrific realization in the eternal process of getting over you punched me in the gut that all of my memories of you have congealed into generalizations. I can’t remember our best- even our top 5- bedroom sessions. I can remember places we’ve gone, things we’ve done, but in those memories I’m alone now. There are no specifics; there’s just this formal overview of 4 years.
I still wear your old shirts sometimes. Just because I have them and they sometimes feel like home. Everything is so disjointed now. It’s felt like two years of vertigo…
I look at old ticket stubs, cards you wrote, things you wrote, things you meant and I can’t even picture that man anymore. I can’t even picture my best friend.
Aside from the handful of your mannerisms I picked up (which make me smile when I notice them. It’s like having a shadow of you within me somewhere), I don’t have anything left of you. Not a kiss or an inside joke or a phantom of an idea of how you smelled.