This post is an excerpt from Twenties Unscripted: A Journey of Womanhood, Writing, and Relativity. The full essay is available in the book, which is currently available for pre-sale here.
You have crossed my mind at stoplights and in coffee shops. I often times sit at the intersection of Pacific and Waxpool in the morning and faintly remember our bodies intertwined not too many weeks ago. I remember the jokes and talks and advice and confessions. But, now, I have stopped using my memories as poor excuses to justify punching a few buttons and texting you. I have stopped using my memories to console me or give me a false sense of hope. I have stopped using my memories as a passport back into your life.