How to Not Remember Your Ex

Shut yourself in.
In a room, in a car, in a bathroom... for all I care.
Switch on the voice recorder.

And now, remember --
Remember the warmth of their embrace.
The scent of their perfume.
Remember that bench in the park where you sat with them for hours, talking about your future.
That café where the coffee always seemed to finish before your conversations did.
Remember that song you called "our song."

And now, remember --
The first taste of betrayal.
That knot in your stomach.
That lump in your throat.
Those unanswered calls.
Those one-word replies.
Those well-practised lies.
Remember the parting words that wrecked your gut.
The nights you cried yourself to sleep.
The mornings you wanted to hide under your blanket and not face the world.
The days you had to push through with trembling hands because life wouldn’t stop.

And now, cry --
Cry like a maniac.
Cry like you’re a wreck.
Cry like a child who can't find his way back home.
Pity yourself for being so naive.
Cry till you can't breathe anymore.

And now, listen --
Listen to the recording.
Again. And again. And again.
Listen to it day in and day out.
Till you remember every note of your cry, every time it pitched high.
Till you remember every sigh and every gasp.
Remember it like your name.

And then I dare you to remember them again.