I don't miss people.
I don't miss places.

I miss smiling faces,
hand holding.
I miss moments.

Sometimes moments I've never had.

I'm sentimental.
I run off imagination  
and meaning.

More than anything,
I'll miss all the things people have taken with them.

Eyes, notebooks, clever wit, my pillow, our photos,
because everything else I still have.

Memories can never be taken from me.

But I'll put them away for a few years. I'll shove you to the back of my mind,
and I'll put a Frank Sinatra record on in my head,
and I'll watch us flicker by when I need to.

All of you. Each person whose walked out.
Each person who turned off the lights,
who locked the door,
who never wanted any more,
of me.

I'll visit when I want to.
But for now I'll say goodbye.
To memories, to sentiment, to meaning,

To you.