Do you still remember our first conversation? It was a cold winter night and I remember looking at your eyes and thinking ‘Wow, I have never seen anything so perfect’ until I was proven wrong when you smiled at me. At first, we were shy, joking about how you wanted to kiss me but didn’t have the guts to do it. And then you did it. I should’ve known, though, that you had your mind set on leaving before we even started. Maybe you would’ve stayed if the timing was different, but it was off, and so were you. You hurt me. Loving you really hurt me.

I constantly find myself asking, “How far am I going to have to run before it’s safe to look back; to look back at everything that happened and forgive myself?” I want to forget you. I want to forget all of you. The simple thought of you used to make me smile. That’s why I got worried. I always wondered what would happen if I couldn’t forget you –if I struggled to find a way to do so because I just didn’t have the strength to erase all of those times with you. Not anymore.

Who are you again? Because I can’t remember your face anymore, nor how your voice sounds. I used to wish for this –to forget, to not remember, and now that I finally can’t, I do not know what to make of it, or what to feel. I’m not happy, nor sad. I just feel lost, and a little bit confused, and like I’m grasping the last piece of memories I have with you but I just couldn’t bring it forth to my mind. No matter how hard I think of you, or how long I take a look at a picture of you, when I close my eyes, I just… can’t. I can’t remember your face anymore.

I used to think that your smile was the best thing I’ve ever seen. Now I’m thankful that I’ve forgotten about it. I’ve forgotten what you look like, but how can I forget what we’ve been through? So now I’m just waiting for the day that I can wake up and not remember a single thing about you. I don’t want to remember your hands, the way they perfectly fit into mine. I don’t want to remember your laugh, the way it always made my day better. And I especially don’t want to remember the way you held me, like I meant the world to you. Because that was a lie. It all was, and I just want to forget.

You know what would be even better? If some time in the future you approached me out in public, maybe at a

coffee shop or walking along the street, and you said “hello,” but I didn’t know who the hell you were, so suddenly, I introduced myself, as if I never even met you in the first place so many years ago.