I miss you so much. I know I’m not supposed to. Im not supposed to verbalise it.
I’m supposed to be on top of the world right now. But I miss you. So much it hurts. Still.
I’m not even supposed to write this.
Maybe I should just delete everything and start again writing where you’ll never find me. That would be best for you, right. Best for me too.
I broke.
I’m broken.
I saw a psychic. A proper one. She saw right through me. She saw you. She knew us. She knew everything about me. Everything. Down to the last detail. Warts and all. It was the most uncomfortable feeling I’ve ever had. Everything I’ve hidden laid bare.
She said we shared a past life. She knew how intense we were. She knew it all. Scarily so.
I should really let you go.
I’m trying.
I’ve been meditating and working through my energy blockages. It’s brought up so many memories that I’d repressed. Dreams too. Of us.

Just for the record. I don’t expect a reply. I don’t want one.  I don’t write these for you. It’s my therapy.
Maybe I should just disappear again. Delete my account and start a fresh. I think you’d breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t blame you.
**