That was the year you disappeared.
I could say it was out of nowhere, and I could say it was within the blink of an eye, but I really would have to admit that I didn't know you at all if I said that were true. In all honesty, I paid closer attention to you then than I ever had, and I knew it didn't happen in an instant, but rather over the course of days, weeks, months. I lost you little by little with every breath you took, realizing just how out of rhythm our heartbeats were, how different we were. I lost you more with every hour of sleep, something I cursed. I lost you little by little, but I just couldn't find the leak, couldn't repair it to keep at least some small part of you where you belonged.
Now you're a ghost of the person I used to know, and there's nothing left in your eyes to make you the person I once loved.