"You'll forget about her, just snap out of it" I heard over and over since the day she packed her bags and left our apartment. Since she had closed the door behind her a final time after saying her last words to me "Goodbye Tom, I promise you will forget all about me in the blink of an eye" I believed them, at first. I knew I couldn't force her to stay, no matter how much I longed for her to. But it had been a year, and her absence still haunted the apartment; the smell of her perfume still seemed to fill the air and it felt like I could still hear her voice resonate through the walls. Ever single thing, as small or insignificant as it may be reminded me of her, like the picture frames that she had bought in an old thrift shop or the coat hanger she chose that I found dreadful at the time, every detail brought me back to a distant memory of her. Now here I sat, on the empty couch that she used to fall asleep on, with the phone in my hand and her number dialled onto the screen. She didn't pick up. " My dear Allie, I hope from the deepest of my heart that you are doing well, that you are happier than you were with me. I hope that you have gotten everything that you couldn't have with me. And mostly I hope that the memory of me has faded with the time, but you have broken your promise because how do you forget someone who's image had been graved into your home, your heart and your soul?"