All I am to you is a memory.
But you are so much more. You were the air I breathed, the words I spoke, my dreams, my reality and everything that kept me going. Now I’m running on fumes, can’t find my words, hardly sleep, out of touch with reality and struggle to keep moving.
But all I am to you is a memory, someone along your journey, someone that held your interest, who made you smile, who stood by your side when you needed me, who you abandoned to chase after what you valued more.
You were my everything and I was just someone.
I’d like to say I’ve recovered, that I’m alright now, but at times I still flinch and my mind still wanders to the times we shared together. One day your name will be an unfamiliar sound, our memories part of my journey, your words forgotten and my pain dissolved.
One day all you’ll be to me is a memory, just someone.