I feel sick.
Sick that you’re going to our world,
the world we found ourselves in,
the one we unintentionally created.
I have no right.
You might not even be going there,
but the possibility of it
of you washing us away with newer, healthier memories
weakens the breaks I have fortified with you.
My bitterness towards you has softened in time, unlike many others.
You cared for me in a way that you didn’t even notice
and now you’ll forget me in ways you’ll never realize.