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These frigid, moonless nights bring me back to shadowed memories, hiding just out of sight. Why can’t I remember what I wasn’t supposed to forget? I stare at the sky, my breath like dragon’s smoke swirling into the darkness, shivering in my jeans and thin sweatshirt. Just beyond the blackness, there is a brief glimpse of a face, a whisper of a long-lost, familiar voice.

Where did you go?

I don’t remember that, either.

Who did you become?

An imaginary friend.

Why did you forget about me?

Who are you again?

Once upon a time, I didn’t believe that sorrow could cause physical pain. Now, there is an aching throb where my heart is supposed to be, and my throat is raw from not screaming. And it hurts, hurts like hellfire.

For those¬†moments when I swore through blistered lips that I would never tell, never forget: I’m sorry. I only kept up with one of those, and now I’m not sure if I shattered the other or not.

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