A breath full of memories
When I think of you, it never feels like you exist outside of my thoughts. Like a figment of an imaginary character that I morbidly breathe life into. Maybe because it's been forever since we spoke and all the conversations between us in my head have been fueled by what I would want to hear you say. All I have left about you are things from my distant memories of us, together. I sometimes revisit our walks, those conversations, your fingers lightly brushing against mine. What I can give to relive those moments, to once again feel young. Remember when I asked you which flowers you liked and you replied, petals- the tender touch of petals. I was surprised at how thoughtful you were about things. I wonder when the spiral started. It was too late by the time I realized we were going to break after all. The vows of eternity dispersed all over my broken heart, like a heap of dried leaves covering the freshly-earthed-corpse. I wish you could be there to get me through it. But again, if y...