"Forget you ever knew my name."
He had pulled me into his arms, his scent filling me, and whispered those words into my hair. He had pulled back to cup my cheek in the palm of his hand, seemingly on the brink of saying more...
And then he was gone.
Forget I ever knew his name? I laugh now.
Maybe it would have been easier if it hadn't been for all the other things that were so hard to forget.
If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hand on the small of my back as we walked, his lips on my neck when he woke me in the early morning. I could still feel the warmth of his hands as they skimmed my skin.
The beat of his chest. The scent of his hair.
I think of him when I touch my coffee cup to my lips each morning. I think of him when an old song comes on and I remember the way we danced. I think of his laughter. The hard spots and the soft spots. The ways he made me crazy and the ways he made me love him.
Forget I ever knew his name?
How can you ever forget something so terribly right that went so terribly wrong?