I forgot what it was like with you.
I forgot how our hands sought each other as we walked.
I forgot the way you cupped your mug of coffee on cold winter mornings.
I forgot waking up to the scent of you in our bed.
I forgot the way you tossed your hair back.
I forgot about how you used to bite your lip when you concentrated.
I forgot the way you looked at me when we made love.
I forgot the color of your eyes.
I forgot the feeling of your touch as I fell asleep.
I forgot seeing you from the corner of my eye as we drove to nowhere in particular.
I forgot feeling your breath against me as we cried together.
I forgot the vows we took, and the promises we made to each other.
I forgot the day you left me.
I forgot the pain.
I forgot the tears.
I forgot.
I forgot.
I forgot.