end

I will give one explanation to for this post: because I am a masachist.

I never, ever want to talk about it again. None of it. I want to forget I ever saw you, knew you, fucked you, loved you. I want to forget all the panick you made me feel. All of the ways we failed, never tried. I want to forget your emotional bankruptcy and how it made me feel insignificant and mediocre. I want to forget your inane drivel of exuses of why you forgot, why you didnt, why your way is better, or why you couldnt be with me. I want to forget every vapid promise and every hollow stare. Every empty gesture in 'trying to make it work'.

I want to forget packed lunches and the way the snow looked in your hair. I want to forget the way the salt sounded grinding under your boots. I want to forget fall and how your hair gets darker. I want to forget winter and hot chocolate, blue and purple comforters. I want to forget summer and take back my foot prints in wet sand. They never should have walked next to yours.

Not another tear for you. Not another thought.

As you go back to where you were before you knew me. As you gamble your standards...I am standing here. Better. Forgetting you.