We haven’t talked in such a long time. It’s been even longer since I’ve seen him.

If you ask me, I’ll tell you that I don’t have any feelings about him at all.

None.

Really.

I can summon nothing.

He is part of my past like kids from elementary school who moved away, like that shirt you had to have in 7th grade and only remember now when you leaf through the photo album at your mom’s house.

He was there one day–such an integral part of my life–and the next he was gone. The pain in the beginning was fierce, but when it subsided the relief erased everything. No more drama.

So why? Why today?

Why was the last thought I had before falling asleep last night one that suggested I should google him today?

I felt dirty just typing his name. I was embarrassed. What if someone found out I had looked for him? Was I really “looking” for him, or just wanting to know if he was still out there?

My upper lip is pulled up in a scowl as I type this now. I’m disgusted that I did it. Thinking that by admitting it here I will cleanse myself of this thing–this act of typing twelve letters and pressing Enter.

You’d think by my description there was abuse. There wasn’t. Well, unless you consider abandoning your 10 & 12 year old daughters with no notice abuse. Most days I don’t. I’ve often considered it a favor.

He just walked away one day.

His name doesn’t deserve to be uttered. It most certainly doesn’t deserve to be written. And I think that’s why I’m so repulsed by the fact that I did. I think I’m worried that just by mentioning him by name he will somehow manifest from thin air, and I REALLY don’t want that to happen.