I'm scared to say your name. I'm scared because it was real. The look my mom gives me when we pass your house is real. The letter i keep in my keep-safe box is real, palpable. The memories captured in pictures are real, although they seem like ghosts all these months later. The trust i had in you was real, more real than anything i'd ever known. What i gave to you was real, every breath exhaled into you, every gaze, every i love you, every thing i've ever written, every tear i've cried, was real. It only hurts when it's real. I hope by avoiding your name, the pictures, the letter, the poems, it will all become a little less real. That it will feel like none of it ever happened, so i can finally go on with my life without this constant aching in my chest and your name on the tip of my tongue.