Our last tear

I forgot my ex-fiancée’s hairstyle. I realized that while high, camping alone in Wyoming. I had to look it up, but the thought made me cry.

I think about her daily, sometimes with nostalgia, sometimes with sadness or guilt, sometimes I just remember her giggle or the way she wrinkled her nose. But I rarely cry.

Is that it? I thought. Is that the last tear I’ll shed for her? The answer is almost certainly no, but one day it won’t be.

There’s a common trope that there are two deaths: the physical one and the last thought anybody has about the person who died.

One might add that there are two ends of relationships: the last time one sees a person and the last time one thinks about the relationship.

I’ve always been a person that values his memory, making memories, and keeping mementos. I know other people are not like that. Happy people.

She meant so much to me. The idea that as time goes on, I’ll forget more and more about her is devastating in ways I cannot put into words.

To the extent getting over someone is forgetting them, I’m not sure I can do it. I’d rather continue to be sad than to lose the most important person I ever lost.

… So this won’t be our last tear. I hope I don’t shed that one for many, many years.

I forgot my ex-fiancée’s hairstyle. I realized that while high, camping alone in Wyoming. I had to look it up, but the thought made me cry. I think about her daily, sometimes with nostalgia, sometimes with sadness or guilt, sometimes I just remember her giggle or the way she wrinkled her nose. But I rarely…