Making you disappear

+ I yank your photographs out of my books, frames and storage boxes. 95% of them hitting the shredder or the trash. Photo shoots, road trips, proms and graduation doings. Not because I want to forget. Because I don't. I don't need these pictures to remind me. I just can't stand to have visual confirmation of what I used to feel for you. Which now, quite frankly, makes me sick to my stomach sometimes. Not that it's even hinted at in the photographs. But I know. I remember. And you are not worthy of me. You're being erased from future friends and maybe generations. But never from my memory. And I hate it.