Maybe I know.
I have these reoccurring dreams where I find out you're dead.
They haunt me. In them I'm completely devastated that I didn't try to reach out to you one last time while I had the chance.
I know it would be wrong. I know it would be selfish. And I know it's reasonable that we not keep in touch.
But I can't help wanting to.
Sometimes I realize I can't continue to assume that we still know each other; because we obviously don't. underlying that is a sense of certainty that we'd still recognize something in one another.
For long chunks of time I can push it to the back of my mind, not dwell on my discomfort. When the dreams start again it becomes a thought I can't stop touching upon; like a burn on the roof of your mouth and you can't stop tonguing it.
At times like that (now) your absence in my life feels so acute; like a missing limb. There's a part of myself; a piece of my history, entrusted to you, that I no longer have access to. So fucking Strange.