Like a breeze blowing my hair and tickling my face, I remember traces of us. Little vestiges he's left with me drift through my mind and brush against my nerves a bit. Not enough to make me itch or tear up, but enough to feel. I'm slammed with the memory of an embrace that wasn't itself profound, but still meant so much. How he looked at me, as if I was everything he wanted and more. How he sighed with such satisfaction, after enthusiastically snatching my hand in his. How he wanted so badly for everything to be perfect, "us" included. He wanted me: forever.
But forever had an end.
***
Perhaps, I'll find love again one day.
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