The enormity of it all hit me like a truck: your intermittent goodbye, always hovering, always threatening, but always just almost leaving your patched, pale lips, the hazy blur of the last five years, the jagged glass edges of those memories swimming in my brain. Your quick smile, your lack of patience, the grainy sound of your voice that I poorly remember now...you. Just you, trying to make me as happy as happiness allows, giving in to my whims and demands. Where do I even start? How? Why do I need to?

It has only been five short years, but it feels like you've been in my life forever. Now that I feel your hand slowly slipping from my hold, I wish I knew what to do. I've lost you a million times- to an idea of a better me, to someone else, to bridges I've been burning to keep the past from catching up. But you've always been here, haven't you? You've been that perfect song on the bus when I thought I was going through life alone. You were the perfect stranger's warm smile when I was hiding behind clouds of my own making, so why can't I feel you now? Where are you?

You're a speck of dust I caught in my eyes on the windiest day in history. You'll never know, but you made me cry. More than that, you made me laugh. You made me happy. Why do I feel like now is the time to let you go, when you've always been my hero? You were here once, always. Why did you let me be comfortable with the thought that you'd never leave if you never really planned to stay?