It's been a while since I've written to you. I've been better—mostly.

The other day I couldn't stop thinking about you. It scared me. The memory of you was so clear, even all these months later. I didn't expect that.

I didn't expect to remember your face so vividly—dark rimmed eyes, unkempt hair, and barely-there smile. Nor did I expect to hear your words so clearly in my mind, the words you spoke to me after we stayed up all night talking. I didn't expect your laugh to ring so loud in my ears.

It haunts me still.

I hope the memories fade, good and bad alike. I hope your voice dissolves into the blackness of my subconscious. I hope I've heard the last of you.

I have to let you go.

You can keep the pieces of my heart and mind that you stole for yourself, I know I won't get them back. Sometimes I wish I'd never met you, but most of the time I'm glad that I did. You hurt me in ways I can't put into words. But you also showed me what love should look like, even though you couldn't give it to me.

I think a foolish little part of me will always love you, just a bit. But don't you worry, I'll find a bigger, better love. I deserve that much.

It's time to let you go.

The thought of you won't control me for much longer— I hope.

I'm letting you go. I'm moving forward.

And I hope you are too.