There are times when I look up, see the moon, and forget you’re not standing beside me looking too.
I’m glad I kept old text messages. They are a good reminder when I get dewey-eyed and forgetful that I can never again love someone who flew all the way across the country to text me from someone else’s bed. With details. What a lameass. I really do wish I didn’t know all the graphic sexual details of the women he’s slept with since we broke up, though. That’s junk you can’t unknow.