There are moments when I believe I’m over it. That I’m over the pain and heartache we went through. I think that maybe, I could possibly start over with someone new. But then I think about having to actually start over.
I think about having to meet someone new, hope that they like me as much as I like them, and hope that they can handle me- all while getting to know them, and they get to know me.
And that, the starting over, terrifies me. Because at any moment in that process, they can walk away. They can quit on me. They can become just another perfect stranger to me, just like you did.
You were my best friend. I went to you when I was upset, I went to you when I was happy. I wanted you to be my end-all.
But then you changed. You didn’t want anything more than what we were. And what we were was too much of nothing to keep me happy.
And it’s in the moments when I think about the person you became toward me that I realize I can’t go through that again.
I’m too strong, too stubborn, too loving to allow myself to think that love is meant to be kept behind closed doors.
Maybe I held on too long to the idea of who we could become and didn’t focus enough on what we actually were- which was all wrong for each other.
The truth is, you did make me happy. You made me want to become a better person.
I am more than you made me out to be, and I will never settle for anything like we had again. I am not over what we had, I don’t know that I ever truly can be.
Love shouldn’t be giving up who you are and what you want in order to fit into a cookie cutter for the other person. Love should be easy. Love should be liberating. Love should be empowering.
I put my trust and energy into loving an idea, and not a person. And I suppose that’s my own fault. I know better now. And that will never happen again.
But right now, I don’t know how not to think about what we went through. I don’t know how to get the pain out of my head and heart.
But sometimes I forget how much you hurt me. I forget that I can’t talk to you. I forget everything. And maybe that’s the start of moving past it all- forgetting.
Eventually, I’ll forget all about you and us, and the only time I’ll even have an inkling of a memory is when someone touches one of the scars you left behind. And I’ll be able to tell them all about you without flinching.
Eventually, those memories will fade into what will feel like a dream. And that’s where I’ll keep you.
But for now, the wounds are too fresh. So I’ll continue to wait for the day that the scars can be touched.