So maybe it's all over.
>>> So maybe it’s all over, and maybe it’s better for both of us that it is. But I still have all these memories and these feelings that I don’t know what to do with, like the loose change in my pockets that can’t be spent. I can’t give away the sound of your laughter, or the feeling of your arms around mine. There is nothing I can do with the scraps of that creation which once was us, which once was happiness. Sometimes I think about calling you, but I’ve got nothing left to say, and I can’t even remember how it used to be when we could talk for hours without needing a break. How did we exist like that? How did we become like this, two separate entities? At what point did it all just stop, when did a crack in our framework become a hole in the foundation and when did broken become unfixable?
When did I stop loving you and start loving a memory?