Sometimes it feels good to talk about you. To say your name out loud. Just to prove that my tongue can still form the syllables. Just to show that it's okay. That you're not a secret. Not a curse forbidden to pass across my lips and into the open air. It feels good to talk about the memories that we shared. The late nights, the good times, the places we went. The small fights with silent treatment, kiss me let's make up, remedies. The inside jokes that still tickle my brain and make me hear your laugh. The laugh that accompanied the voice that belonged to the person I felt so safe with. So comfortable around. So in love with. Yes I said it. In love. Because when it's love, you really are IN it. It surrounds you. Takes up your whole heart. It takes your breath away. Makes you appreciate the little things. It makes you realize how important a crumpled up piece of paper with words written on it just for you really is. How special one kiss can really be. And how perfect one hand in your own can feel. So sometimes it feels good to remember the whispers you'd tell me in the dark when it was just us, the moon and the stars. And sometimes it feels good to think about the fact that you truly cared for me and not just me, but us. What I wouldn't give for just one more memory. For just another chance to hear your heart beat inside your chest. For you to offer me your hand as I sit in the passengers seat, going anywhere with you. Just anywhere your heart desires. But that's the thing. Your heart. It's desire isn't me. No matter how badly I want it to be. No matter how many times I say I'm sorry. Scream it up to heaven. Or to the stars. Or to anyone around to listen. No matter how many tears I shed. Weep. Sob. Cry. It's useless. Hopeless. The memories they're good. They're great. They're what I treasure most now that you're gone. And that's why I say sometimes. Because sometimes it feels good to know that we once had the world in our hands. That at one point we almost caught our dreams. That at a place in time WE actually had the same dream. That there even was a "we". But the other times. The times where it doesn't feel good. Where just the thought of you, of us, tears me apart. That's what makes every single day a challenge. Because sometimes I just want to forget the best part of my life. The best memories and jokes and feelings. Leave them all behind. There are times where I want nothing more than for all of that to be gone. And that's what's so sad. That sometimes I want the best part of my life, the best part of me, to disappear...