It happens when I don’t expect it. When I read a word, or see a picture that brings you to the forefront of my mind so painfully and clearly. No warning, no protection, none of the usual defense I build up around my heart when I can see memories of you coming. Suddenly you’re beyond my walls and I remember, really remember what it was like to love you. Sometimes I forget that I really did. But then, there you are, and here I am, knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved you, I loved you, I loved you. And it’s so far gone now, you and I, that I wish it was a story I could tell. A book I could write. Just so I, and everybody else could know that it happened. But it’s not some plotline. It’s just my life. It’s just what we were. What I was. And it’s gone and over. And I can’t keep a single piece of it.