I write and I erase. There used to be a time I used to think we were poetry and its words would just weave themselves into the manifesto of our love. As we parted, it transitioned into a ballad of my aching heart and now as it has finally sunk in, I know we were nothing but two bored souls not even in mutual attraction trying to force each other to give in to the personal whims, it was a tale of misery. And so I try to forget that miserable tale, to forget ever meeting you and having to experience the burst of dopamine for the first time, to ever feeling your warm touch on my cold skin as I would melt into those arms, to forget ever gazing into those lying eyes and thinking how beautiful they were, to have ever kissed those manipulating selfish lips while I would forget the world around. I struggle every day, coming to terms with just how naïve and desperate I was and how blatant and seasoned you were. But I try still, as I find purpose of different kind, as I immerse myself in pursuit...