I dreamed of you last night. I hate that. It hasn’t happened in a few days so I thought that I was moving on but I guess I’m not.
When I dream of you, it always so vivid and I roll over to kiss you like I always did but you aren’t there and it is just like the first day you were gone all over.
When I dream of you, you are always walking away but this time you faced me and everything was ok and this waking was the dream. Every day is just like the last.
It’s exactly you are dead but there is no grave to sit and mourn. You know me better than anyone and when you said “Forget you ever met me”, you knew I’m not wired like that. Aside from being impossible to forget 25% of your life, I wouldn’t if I could.
I know you are wired to forget and pretend that people never existed and I hate you for that. It’s not fair to me, to you, or the next person you put through hell. Merry Christmas.
Every really is just like the last. I hope you are happy, at least for a while.