Who Are You?

I forget you on purpose.
I forget you because if I remember how I felt I would fall in love all over again.
And I know that I would fall.
And it would hurt.
And it wouldn't be a bruise or two.
It would be more than a scuff up. It would be broken bones and open wounds that would require stitches. And I know myself enough to now that I would carry it with me and I wouldn't let it heal.
I would let it fester into something bigger than and more painful than it really needs to be.
And I'm pretty certain I wouldn't like that.
But something tells me
That knowing you, you probably would.