"By mentioning him at least a few times a day, he still exists in your life"
*muffles a groan under a pillow*
They stopped existing when they decided to walk out and eventually, I let them and made my stride away from everything that once was. I gave into the reasons that never actually answered anything. I gave up on doubts. I gave up on questioning. I stopped expecting..from the answers I wanted to the mere truth, I stopped. I cut the threads holding our memories together, I melted the glue that stuck fragments of what we once were and what we could've been.
Places, texts, conversations, music, photos. I burnt them.
What do I do with my ash-marred hands?
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