I hear you talking sometimes, when you think I'm busy or sleeping or just don't care. Talking about me, or if not me then about the us that there had been a long time ago. At least it feels like a long time ago. It's less than a year, but that's the same thing as forever. The world moves fast, and you have to keep up.

I don't think you'd say it if you thought I was listening, but then again, what the fuck do I know? Obviously not you, well enough to hang onto you. Well enough to know what goes through your head when you say what you say or you do what you do. Maybe you want me to hear. Maybe you like it when you get in a good stab and you can see a flicker of reaction on my face. I don't let you have that often.

I hear you tell Joey that I was always blowing you off for phone calls. You tell Justin that I never slept through the night in bed with you, unless you hung on to me. You tell JC that I never cared about the things that you wanted to do. That it always had to be my way.

I don't care what you think of me now; you might even be right about all those things. But things weren't always that way, and they were never that way when we were together. Please, whatever else you do, just remember me right.