Twisted and bound in knots, a slight nausea settling in, a goodbye that was too sudden to quite comprehend. I play with my fingertips, rolling them under my nails, nervous energy wasted again. Trying to decide if what I thought I had or felt was actually what I had or felt or if it was some warped manifestation of what I just simply wanted. Replaying the conversations, late night phone calls that rolled into early morning, re-reading those damn texts. How I hate texting, so impersonal, the ability to misconstrue even the simplest word. K. Why do I feel as though I have lost when in fact, I never had. So elusive, always on the cusp, wavering just out of reach, a shadow I keep struggling to catch up to, a name I keep willing my mind to remember. The word always on the tip of my tongue, but never around long enough to savor. Love.