All Forgotten As Fireworks Bloom

In the seventh year of my relationship with Ross, I realized I was trapped in a slow, agonizing punishment.

Every time he chose Gemma, his first love, over me, a piece of the evidence that I had once loved him would vanish from my mind.

The first time, when he spent the night celebrating Gemma’s birthday instead of coming home, I forgot the feel of our very first handhold.

The second time, when he took the project proposal I had stayed up for nights to write and put her name on it, I forgot the gentle rain that fell the day he confessed his love to me.