Sometimes, love leaves ghosts behind.

When we were little, we all made promises of 'xxx forever", didn't we. 

But people come and go, memories do fade, as does pain, even love.

He was a childhood memory,

Of a love that came as easily as breathing

The days before we became complicated.

But I didn't know love then, and we said goodbye as carelessly.

erasure, it is rarely clean. 

more a gradual loss of sharpness. First the details slip away, then the names and faces blur, after a while, even the emotions become ordinary. we become numb.

He is gone now

There is a turning point where it takes a lot more effort to remember things vs. forget them.

The connections we made when we were simpler, that came as naturally as breathing. Perhaps they only exist in memory.

And I have been searching for that connection ever since.

Sometimes, love leaves ghosts behind.

~

beyond that, is this whiteness of absolution.