I did not remember the fear I felt that he would suddenly change his mind.
I had forgotten the anxiety through the lapses between conversations.
My mind had blocked the uncertainty of his words, how perhaps as they came out the after taste they left was bitter and gray, typical of lies.

Although I thought I'd miss, the butterflies,
I find myself hitting the bottle and swallowing pills,
just to stop the fluttering for a minute or two.

And now that I'm starting to remember, 
I'm not sure I ever wanted it that much to begin with.