I forgot.

Worse than leaving the stove on after you drive off for work.

Worse than watching a movie that you know gives you nightmares and makes bumps in the night feel way too close.

Worse than leaving lip balm in the right pocket of your favorite jeans as they go through the washer and dryer.

And I'm trying so hard to remember so it's not a bad repeat or an unwanted sequel. Déjà vu, and it feels like an ambush. There are these moments that feel like there's an out, but I'm stuck in this cyclical culture of clingy, co-dependent sheeple and my conscience won't let me bow out - for I know the pains and problems that lay ahead.

I forgot to care again.