I think about our memories intermittently.


They still haunt me.

Especially the bad ones.


Thought about writing you another letter,

but the chances of you not reading it are high.


I've needed to give myself closure.


I did love you but it was wrong and I could never love you in the ways you wanted.


In those moments,

you were my best friend,

someone I counted on.


Now you're a distant memory,

a counterfeit mirage.



I've written about you,

I've talked about you,

and now it's time to forgive you.


Forgive you for what, you might ask.

Forgive you for breaking me to pieces.

Discarding me like one of your toys,

and acting like I never existed.


I forgive you, Claire.