Dear ———,

I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. Not that that’s abnormal to be honest, but it’s felt more…impressive. Like I dropped anchor on your memory, maybe it wasn’t on purpose, but it happened all the same. So I’m exploring the intricacies of our story. I’m gently grazing, in search of sense. Maybe I’m also seeking forgiveness. I’m not sure yet.

I still have questions for you. Some that are fair, some that are probably not. I’ve found that I can’t trust my memory as much now. Moments are hazy. I’ve forgotten most of the things you said to me. Now I just have all these poems. But they feel different now too.

It’s all in abstract now. It’s just a feeling. But it’s not just a feeling. It never has been. It is the aching. Like waves against the shore. Ebbing and flowing. I wish sometimes it would stop. Sometimes I cling to it.

I think what I’m trying to say is. I miss you. And I wish I didn’t.

I miss you and I know it’s not enough.

Love, Me

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