You cling to your perception that the one you loved is sacred; too pure to subject to an everlasting haze of forced amnesia, but you’re allowed to forget them.

The question may be how to stop thinking about them, but the answer has nothing to do with them at all.

Truth is, I forgive you.

In the middle of speaking, you might forget how to finish your sentence. You might lose your train of thought and completely forget what you were even talking about in the first place.

I’m not good at forgetting the way I had loved so fiercely, feeling comforted by those stars, those lights thousands of feet below.

I wish forgetting your place in my life was as easy for me as it has been for you. I wish walking away would’ve been my decision instead of yours.

You can forgive. And you can forget. You can do this.

This is where my story ends. 

Goodbyes are endings, but memories stay. Feelings last.

The art of forgetting you
The pain, the torment
The lust, the love
All of you…
That is an art form I have not mastered yet.