I’m Done Writing About You

For a while I wasn’t sure I could fully be over you. Over the thought of us, over the idea that we could’ve had an epic love story to tell. It took me so long to realize my feelings for you, and it took me four shots to finally tell you how I feel. For the longest time I was secretly hoping that my life, our situation, would end differently. An ending only imaginable on a big screen, but I couldn’t let everything fall to fate, and hope that infatuation alone would keep us afloat.

I woke up from my trance of you this morning and realized that I was okay. And I have been for a while now. You will always be significant, and I can be nostalgic about you and the memories we created while my life simultaneously carries on without you. And even when it’s over, I get that sad tingling feeling in my chest that we will never be the same again. It was hard to accept the fact that you didn’t want the things I thought you’d want, but I guess some people come into your life just to teach you how to let go.

I was really sad about it for a while. The kind of sad when you know deep down there’s nothing you can do even though you wish you could. That’s when your heart breaks, you gotta fight to make sure the pain goes away. And the pain you feel? That’s there to remind you that somewhere out there is something better and that “something” is worth fighting for, because maybe it’s not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it’s about starting over and creating something better.

So this is me, apologizing to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go. I was sad, bitter, angry and I could see now that it was pathetic of me to act that way. But then I needed to feel sad, bitter and angry. I needed it to stop prolonging this spark of hope left inside me. I needed to feel it to give myself a chance at something better. 

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