I cried ever still when I picked up my guitar to play a song that she had written, and I could not remember the chords. Has it been that long, that my fingers have forgotten?

Within the box was a small blade with the name "Zep," inscribed on its side. I haven't seen that blade, or the girl, in so long. I haven't cut in months. It seems like much longer.

I am in a state of.... I cannot even begin to describe.

I imagine sometimes, when I let my heart think about the past, that I am an unsuspecting older woman, waiting backstage at the latest talkshow and I am unaware of why my presence has been requested. As my name is called, I walk from backstage, I see her sitting, with floods coming from her eyes forming puddles at her feet.

At first, I do not recognize her - her face is all too familiar, but I cannot think of her name. As she speaks, it comes back to me, like a flash before my eyes - the girl, the church, the voice, the love, the devastating end.

I usually snap out of my daydream when I think of her leaving, and begin to wonder aloud if my optimistic dream will ever be a reality. Will I ever find her? And if I do, will she be the same? Will she welcome me? Will she be heterosexually married, with 2.1 kids, and a white picket fence. Will she condemn me?

I feel like I'm babbling. Like I'm not making sense. She always did have the power to make me lose my train of thought.

I fear that I would spent my life circling the world in an attempt to find her, if I could. It scares me, for I know that my life will never be truly complete if she is not in it. How can I love when my heart still remains with her? How can I let her go, when I've been holding on so tightly for... almost five years now?

"Those who love will stand by me, and I'll stand by you, 'cause you stood by me." ~ Written by: The Girl - Oh, how I wish I could remember the exact day that she wrote this; the first time she played it for me; what I felt; how she looked.

I wish that I could never forget her. My memory already fails me.