I don't think I'll ever forget. Or stop missing.
PG said it's been ten years, he had come to terms with it, and that, I will too. I don't think I want to, though. The inevitability of corrosive time terrifies the heart. At least, let me have a choice, you know?
But I know I yearn for something that is utterly ficticious, non-existent - for I no longer have a place there. I no longer belong.
How does one stop missing? And I can answer that - 'without any reason at all'. Not that I know how to carry that out.