I deleted our pictures today, all 147 of them. I even deleted the random videos you sent me to make me laugh and the random baby photos I took from your walls when I went to your childhood house. It was the only proof that I had left to cling on to your and our existence.

I told myself that maybe if I demolish these memories that you wouldn't exist to me. Maybe you'd just be nothing but another person to me.

I told myself maybe if I block these memories out of my mind, and not dwell on them that maybe just maybe I'd forget them. I will admit it, it sort-of worked.

The love we had was brief but powerful. It was like the movies. Our love was like the scenarios I would create up in my head since I was in grade school about the perfect guy and the perfect love. I had it, and then I didn't have it. That alone makes it so easy to convince myself that you never existed, and this was something I dreamed up in my head.

I don't think we actually ever fall out of love with people. I feel with time and distance the memories begin to lose its effect on us. We forget how it felt to be in love with the person, just how I forgot how it felt to be with you. The only thing is that every once in a while, I stumble across something insignificant like the shirt I forgot you left in my room. It's always an eye-opening reminder that you're more than something of my imagination.