Sometimes I wonder what it was like being with you, I’m starting to slowly forget.
I wonder if your voice sounds different; can a voice change in only a few months?
I wonder if you ever hung up that poster, or if you just simply threw it away after you found out about him.
Do you wear the shirt too? Or is that gone along with the poster.
I wonder if you’re happy. I really hope you are, that’s something we all could use a bit of.
I hope you’re happy for the right reasons, spite will sometimes cloud our judgement and falsely convince us otherwise.
Do you call me bitch? A slut? Maybe even a whore? I don’t deserve such deplorable words, but I understand.
This is extremely vain but, do you still find me beautiful? I wonder if this is why I catch you staring at me if I pass by, you’re not all that subtle.
I also wonder about your dog, how is she? She was always such a cutie, I miss your dog dude. Can I ask you about the dog?
Am I allowed to ever say hi to you? Will we ever strike up a conversation without awkward tension or do we have to still pretend the other person doesn’t exist?
Finally, will you ever read this? Do you check in on my blog from time to time? Is the URL burned into your memory or still open in your phone browser? Or have you simply deleted all of the memories filled with me, because I’m starting to forget–are you?