And to this day, I still remember being with you. I was so drastically caught up in loving you, and it's been almost a year now since I was in love with you, and I still am attached to the ghost of what we had, and of what we lost.
The question I continue to ask myself is why? Why am I simply so entangled with your love? Seeing you happy should make me happy, but it stings my chest while breathing knowing that you could even take one glance at me without being phased.
That's the difference between us. You don't remember me. But I remember. I remember everything, and yet somehow I'm stuck in this spinning cycle of I wish you'd remember for one damn second.
Was it really that hard to love me? What's it going to take to finally understand that I am no better than a burning memory? If only I could erase the memory of you as well, then maybe we both would be just fine. Why is it that you get to be okay without me, yet I can't find it in my own heart to let go of you and be okay as well?
Seeing you with someone else, it's an indescribable feeling. I find myself constantly writing out essential essays on what I know about you, yet I toss them aside everyday knowing that it would never be enough. It's never been enough. So congratulations, hope you're doing okay. I know you're happy, so I should move on. I shouldn't sit here in my sorrow, yet that is the most comforting place I have at the moment. Every inch of you belongs somewhere else, and not with me. I remember you. I remember who you are, and I wonder if that person is still you on the inside. And even if you still are that person I was in love with, you are in love with someone else. Congratulations. You already moved on.
