I’d run far.

I despise you for ruining my mind.

For tainting my brain.

For haunting my life.

It’s like my head’s not my own.

I drive down the street and I look for your car.

—yet if I saw you I’d run. Because I know who you are.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

That’s what I wish I could do—to all of my thoughts and memories of you.