I have a hard time remembering the me before there was an us. Becoming so intertwined with each other, it’s as if we no longer exist as individuals. If there was a different version of my that once walked this Earth, she is a distant memory scattered through the memories of everyone who had the misfortune of meeting her. She was rougher than the me now, broken in places she wasn’t sure how to fix. The jagged edges caused problems in her relationships. But you were able to withstand them. You worked out the sharp corners. Maybe the pieces couldn’t all be fixed, but you found a way around them. And now here we are, the shadow of what we once were just a distant memory.