I didn’t dream about you last night…or the night before.
Your face no longer haunts me, and our last words no longer sting.
I never thought I’d say this, but I think you not coming back was a good thing.
I haven’t looked at old texts or pictures lately, which takes me by surprise. All it does is remind me of how I wanted to be seen in your eyes.
I no longer get butterflies when I see your name, but it still makes me sad to think I will probably never see you again.
I left because I could no longer drive down those streets and wonder why you hadn’t called. I wish I could go back and warn my younger self that, in the end, you weren’t capable of giving anything at all.
At times, I felt like a college girl who was falling in love for the first time. Then I remind myself that I’m grown and this is a mountain I no longer wish to climb.
The signs of you are disappearing, and I have more peace throughout the day. Even when a memory pops up, it makes me remember all the times you refused to stay.
My stomach has stopped lurching at the old remnants of you. I suppose that is how healing affects us—it shows us that, eventually, all things are renewed.
Time has softened the scars that still exist on my heart. How I wish I could have loved you in a way that would have never broken apart.
You feel like all the old lovers, whom I’ve now folded into my soul. You will always remain there, my darling, until I find another way to feel whole.
No matter how it ended, I know you felt it too.
Because there is no one else I would have rather had this experience with than you.