I’m still awful about you. Your face will flash in my mind at random times of the day and my heart will seem to run over 100 kph. I’ll see or hear your name somewhere and a truckload of memories will hit me faster than a speeding bullet, and the wounds will open up again. It’s terrifying to think how quickly the switch can turn from “mildly blissful” to “hopelessly dismal.” Maybe all this time, I’ve just been “naively trusting” - foolishly living in my tear-clogged brain where endless litanies of “I’m okay” and “it doesn’t hurt anymore” are scratched everywhere. But no, I’m making a vow to end this pain. Maybe every now and then, you’d still hit me like that rush in my stomach during a roller coaster ride that I can’t shake it off until the end. Maybe I’ll always be puzzled at how things ended without any ellipses or commas. Just a sudden period in the middle of a sentence. Maybe I missed a foreshadowing excerpt in our story. There will always be reminders of your existence and maybe right now I can’t shake off the sudden jump of my heart or the abrupt constraint of my throat. But eventually, the sting will pass and when I get reminded of you, I’ll just smile and say ‘I’m happy now, and I hope wherever you are, you are too.
 
I’m afraid we’ll always be
a book with the end pages ripped out.
Does Time Truly Heal All Wounds?
Sometimes I remind myself that I almost skipped the party, that I almost went to a different college, that the whim of a minute could have changed everything and everyone. Our lives, so settled, so specific, are built on happenstance.