uterus: forget i was here.

lets skip the personal conversations, because that part of chivalry is dead and buried beneath an oak tree. let's not pretend like we're highly interested in personal desires and retirement plans, summers in Italy, and your family heirloom of engagement rings. routines are boring and so are we. lets just sit down with our glasses of wine and unwind. lets not pretend that you love me, because tomorrow you'll love someone else. please do not hold my hand whilst walking side by side. do not treat me like your mother and please do not send me flowers. lets not pretend to be a married couple and lets not pretend any of anything is real. throughout this entire scenario, there's a bit of enjoyment and hope dwindling in between heartbeats. the attraction is fading away and once again, we are empty. another scar is engraved along her arm, representing a deceased lover.