I had a habit of imagining your arms around me when I was having trouble sleeping. And sure enough, with in minutes I’d drift off into a deep sleep. It worked for years. Years. But not last night, not this week, not anymore. It’s not that I rejected the thought, it’s that I couldn’t complete it. I could no longer remember what it feels like, what you feel like. I can no longer remember the smell of your skin or which way your hair parts in the morning. This whole time forgetting you is what I’ve been most afraid of while simultaneously begging for it. Your voice used to tickle the pit of my stomach, but now I hardly know how to speak to you at all, hardly want to speak to you at all. I am has turned into I used to be. I used to be in love with you. I used to be infatuated with the idea of you. I used to think we’d go on like this forever. I used to think my heart was safe in your hands. I am no longer looking for shelter.