It feels like déjà vu without one specific memory to tie it to. Her in my childhood room, wearing my high school team sweatshirt. Shit, just her being in Boston again feels nostalgic. Where it all started. I spent six years missing a huge piece of who I am because that’s how integral she is in my life. That’s how embedded she is in the fabric that makes me me. I’ve heard the claim that you don’t know what you’ve got until you’ve lost it, but I knew what I had. It made losing us that much more unbearable. Those six years were their own kind of torture, and it would’ve made it a hell of a lot
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