I can’t remember whether or not I love you.
That’s the funny part about it. I remember everything you said to me, everything we did together. Nothing escapes me now; memories of you and I laughing together, me crying on your shoulder, and us smiling at the stars hold tight to my mind. Part of me still daydreams of it. Part of me wants to forget you exist. All of me knows that’s impossible.
Maybe I can’t remember because my body doesn’t want to go through that pain again. The feeling of being ripped away from you sent me into a constant state of self loathing and fear of abandonment. I still don’t forgive you for that much.
I lay here, staring at the sky and all of its lights as though they’ll give me the answer I’m looking for. Nothing will, though. I’ll never get the truth. The question’s been buried too far into my soul, my psyche, my everything.
Now I wonder if you still love me, too.