Bittersweet Memories

Some nights I still have dreams about you.
I can picture your beautiful bright eyes and your perfect row of white teeth.
I swear I can feel your arms wrap around my body and squeeze me closer to you.
I can smell your scent.
And taste your lips.
I can hear your laugh that used to make my knees buckle and my heart swell.

On these nights when you come uninvited into my bed,
You squeeze yourself back into the spot that still, to this day, has your body shape indented in.
Your figurative body captures mine and tightly grips our hands together.

And for one more night you force me to make more memories, like the ones that I have been desperately trying to forgot.

However, without fail, right before my eyes open to the morning light, you turn your back and walk away from me.
Not unlike the day I last saw you in person.
And that image has been burned so deeply into my body that I can feel my heart break once again from the comfort of my bed.
And I watch myself buckle, behind my close eye-lids, and I can physically see my lunges struggling for air.

And then I wake up, and I start out the day with such a bittersweet memory of a stranger that I used to know.

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