Falling Up

Forget

Tomorrow is your birthday, and a part of me cannot bring itself to believe that it has been a year. It's been a year since our best times together and, to be honest, I find myself missing you just a little more right now.

Not enough to fully forgive you for everything you've done, but just enough to reminisce on the summer days I spent with you.

I find myself remembering fleeting memories of late nights talking about nothing, of sleepy morning waking up to you happily watching YouTube, of you grinning about some corgi video you found on Facebook.

I wish I could say that I haven't thought about you since May, but I have all too often and I'm starting to hate myself for remembering someone who doesn't really care for me. It's been months and I still find myself up at night, feeling your ghost touches against my skin and crying myself into a restless sleep. But I know that I will never have another night spent with you.

I will never make any new memories with you that I will take into my life, like risky clothing that I have to gather the courage to wear again. I will never feel you next to me again.

I'm not sure if that is a comforting thought, or a haunting one.

I'm afraid to speak of these lonely nights, though. I'm afraid of people scolding me like a child who took one too many pieces of candy, for missing you as I do.

So I will sit in a solemn silence, keeping to myself, praying that my skin will forget you.

Praying I forget your birthday, your favorite color, your favorite animal .

Praying that I'll forget you.