I was laying facing the ceiling, my arm folded behind my head as a prop. My eyes were open even though the lights were all off and my bedroom was dark. I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Besides staring at the ceiling, I was making a list in my head. Ways To Not Think Of Her: 1) Blank. 2) Blank. 3) Blank.

It was originally supposed to be a list of ways to better myself but after half an hour I realized that my only problem was her. So how do I make myself forget? Ways To Make Myself Forget Her: 1) Walk into ongoing traffic. 2) Die 3) Blank. I’m a genius, right? I had nothing.

With a loud sigh, I checked the clock for the time. 3:47AM. I turned back to the ceiling and chewed on my lip. What do you do when thoughts just nag and tear at you, seeming to rip your actual flesh and leave you exposed? Before, when parents or school or just life bothered me, she was always there. She would pour chocolate milk into two mugs–because she hated tea–and then she would bring my guitar from my bedroom and then we would sit for hours. She would end up drinking both mugs of chocolate milk while I strummed my guitar, half singing and half ranting about everything. Eventually, I would end up with my head resting in her lap as I dozed off, feeling her fingers move through my hair, smoothing it down while she hummed. She was better than any lullaby.

Completely forgetting my previous listing, my eyes began playing tricks on me, drawing her face on the dark ceiling above me. It was the view I had when I dozed on her lap; her hair falling in front of her face, a calm look on her face that showed she was comfortable in my presence. I could barely remember the wa