Every so often you come and sit right in the middle of my mind. Every so often, I can only see every single moment I ever spent with you. Every so often I feel weak. Troubled. Tormented and harassed. Every so often. Every time I turn around I see a reminder of what I’ve lived through. Every time I see a boy and a girl walking together I see us. Or what used to be. Every time I drive down that street, I remember the conversation. I remember what I was to you and I’m sorry. Sorry that I was alive in a story that existed only in my head. Where you have taken up too much space for far too long. Its been a year since the masks fell. Its been a year of dragged steps towards a haunted healing and a haunted life. A year where I took two steps forwards and four steps back. Every so often, I feel sorry. I feel sorry for you and sorry for me. I feel sorry for all that couldn’t be. Maybe its a story of two different people, not us. Maybe its all just a story conjured in my head. Maybe. Maybe I was meant to be without you from the very first. Maybe, just maybe, you were right. Maybe I’m the best that I could be, without you.