9Written 01 - May - 2013.
Sometimes she wants to forget, and she knows how horrible that is, but she can't help it. There are days when he's there, fresh in her mind like some kind of wound, like the portal that had opened up and swallowed him whole had never quite closed, and there are days when he's just an ache heavy on her shoulders, but there are never days when she can quite put him out of her mind, because he is everywhere.
He is there in the sound of the wind and he is there in the grain of the books stacked on her bookshelves, and he is there in her mirror, and he is there, so completely vivid, every time she closes her eyes. He is there in the rain and the sun and the salt of the sea and the feeling of fire. He is there in every face she stares down, every door she breaks, every time she hears her name, and sometimes she thinks that something inside her has become trapped with him in that Other place.
Other times she wonders if she really is imagining it all, because he is everywhere, and surely that has to mean something.