I've realized therapy is incredibly therapeutic.

Joy, not sorrow.
Laughter, not tears.
Life, not death.
Love, not blame.

And then it hits me like a fast, open-palmed, stinging smack in the face.
Having a ghost boyfriend
WAS
weird

Sometimes you want to remember. And sometimes you need to forget.

When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don't even have to kiss to have fireworks go off. It's like fireworks in your heart all the time. I always wondered, do opposites really attract? Now I know for sure they do. I'd grown up going to the library as often as most people go to the grocery store. Jackson didn't need to read about exciting people or places. He went out and found them, or created excitement himself if there wasn't any to be found. The things I like are pretty simple. Burning CDs around themes, like Songs to Get You Groove On and Tunes to Fix a Broken Heart; watching movies; baking cookies; and swimming. It's like I was a salad with a light vinaigrette, and Jackson was a platter of seafood Cajun pasta. Alone, we were good. Together, we were fantastic.

Was it hard?" I ask.
Letting go?"

Not as hard as holding on to something that wasn't real.