She haunts me like a mental ghost. Always in my mind. Never truly forgotten.
She is still the only person in my life who, when I think of her, can illicit emotions so strong that they are physical, visceral. My whole body reacts, a complete physical reaction.
When the attack in London happened she was the person I thought of. The first person I was scared had been hurt. The urge to check that she was safe was so strong as to be almost overpowering. I wonder if I will ever fully get over her. I believe intellectually that I will eventually get to a time when I won’t think of her any more. But I don’t believe she will ever truly leave my thoughts entirely. Sounds, sights, smells, colours, everything and anything can bring her back from deep in my mind. From the centre of my heart.
At least I’ve reached the time when I have to think as to how long it has been since we were together as a couple, as to when we said goodbye for the last time before it ended. I no longer count the days. I no longer wonder who she’s going out with, who she’s sleeping with. The pain is fading but it’s still there, capable of bringing tears to my eyes as I think of it to write these words. Tears on a keyboard, better than tears on a page. These can be wiped away and forgotten. Christ I loved her and, even after all, I still do.
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