Barely.

It starts to crash on me one by one. Suddenly those nights that would seem rather extraordinary before seem so dull now. Eventful, but dull. 

I sometimes wish I didn't throw more oil into our already burning bridge, I sometimes wish I had kept every reminder of you, or at least the ones I where I had a choice. Reminders still exist, of course. I would be naive to deny that. 

It's just that I don't want to remember, but I can't seem to forget either.

Having barely enough of you to hang on, eh?