Naps – strange dreams of voodoo houses and boxes of heroin and being left behind.

I don’t know how to stop loving him.  I don’t know how to stop hurting over the whole thing.  I don’t know if I’m still in love with him, with the man that he is, or with the boy that he was the first day I laid eyes on him, blond and tattered and gorgeous in Linda’s living room – with the boy I fell in love with, the man I left years later, dark-haired now and hurt and lonely.  Or if I’m still in love with a  concept, with the idea of loving him, with us… no closure.

And I haven’t let go and I don’t want to and now I carry around the secret of him like I did when I was with lovers, the presence of him always there, making me make myself feel guilty for not being with him, with him, with him who I love, loved, am loving, will love. Should I use the conditional now?  Should I use the past tense?

Past. Tense.

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