Once Upon a Time

I run my eyes across the letters on the page, trace my nails over the edges of the envelope that contains each and every line of poetry I wrote for you, and I have this sensation that I am reading some one else's love story.
For by now I can barely remember the ache for you spreading through out my bones, and echo that's barely a whisper in the night. And I feel as if I should almost apologize, as if these feelings were something short of wrong now that they exist no longer.
But even in the deepest pockets of the night, the facts that once upon a time in college I loved you will not be erased. Nor do I want them to be, as if by doing so I could still move forward as a complete person. As if I could grow beyond anything I am now without this.
And I know I would have hurt you, without meaning to, on purpose when that would be the only way for you to care for me. And in the end I would have killed all the parts I love about you in an attempt to have that love returned.
And now that it's over, I can say, once upon a time in college I loved you. And am thankful that I did.