Sometimes I think I would do anything to erase the memory of the moment my ex broke my life into a million pieces. Anything not to have him fall off the pedestal I put him on, not to prove to me how blind I am, not to darken the world in which I had put so much naive trust.

But if he hadn't. We might still be in a deceitful relationship built on what I thought was good and what he was afraid to let go of. I might have never been forced to face the open wounds I liked to lick and pretend were better. Maybe he gained something out of it too. At least I got prescription pills.

I don't think I would want our memories though. If I could erase that one moment of pure disappointment, disillusion, hatred and contempt, I would want to erase it all. Make sure I never remembered how I fooled myself into loving him. Lest it happen again.

But the clouds he left me are breaking. And I am collecting the shattered pieces. Some have fallen in the cracks and will not be retrieved. I will create new pieces to fit in their place. Or maybe I'll leave open spots for air, or sunshine, or rain.

There will be no pedestal. Not for me. Not for them.

Everybody's got to learn sometime.