I really need to stop hunting for you like some kind of elusive prey. I've nearly completely let go of you, but I'm not there just yet. I keep hoping I'll see a somewhat recent picture of you just to know that you're alive and you are still a complete jerk for doing what you did. I know your hair has probably greyed and you have more wrinkles, but I guess a part of me still wants to know for sure what that face looks like, if I'll even recognize you.
I can feel the part of me that is still hanging on getting smaller and smaller, though it hasn't disappeared just yet. I can't wait for that day. The day I am finally rid of you.
