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Unravelling

“Yes, you've told me before.”

The words I speak into the phone are calm, but my heart sinks--as with every other proof of your unravelling.

I wish I could grasp at those strands of memory that keep escaping, replaced by things that never were.

And as the strands slip away, fears of all kinds come to stay. They crowd your mind; danger lurks around every corner.

Maybe we are not that different. The fears have made a home in me too. One of them bothers me the most.

I'm afraid that when I finally see you, I will not know you.

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