“Some stories are forever and some forevers are stories. “
It’s 5:40 in the morning, I slept at 2:30, again. I wasn’t doing anything fun,it was Saturday night a few hours ago that spilled to Sunday morning. I stayed up most part of the night doing nothing fun; I refreshing my newsfeed every ten seconds in social media. Tried reading a book here and there. It wasn’t a typical Saturday night with high heels, lip stick, loud music and my attitude but my typical kind of Saturday night. I know going out would have been a better distraction. It’s cheap, I know, but a night out is sometimes all the therapy you need.
I choose to stay indoors and do what I do best, over think, Stalking and reading things online. Saw your pics on Instagram, a few tweets here and there, it gets boring doing nothing on Saturday other than stalking an ex. I went through my gallery and bumped to a few photos of us, the ones that I must have missed when I was deleting you out of my life. Or maybe I left them intentionally because it felt like loosing us forever. We need something to hold on to, to remind us where we came from sometimes. I know how insane I sound right now, romanizing lost love. But that’s what Saturday nights are made for,anyway. When the sun goes, and it gets dark, my clock reads “over think.” Lately, it doesn’t matter where my thoughts begin, they always end back to you.
I committed your face to memory. One day when I’m forty, serving my husband breakfast and fixing myself coffee(now that I would be all grown and stuff)I will be thinking of you. I will probably put myself in a bad mood because my coffee doesn’t reflect the shades of your eyes since I accidentally used excess coffee or maybe because I started doing my coffee with milk and it just can’t get the shades of your eyes right. I mean it’s milk! Or maybe my coffee will always have reflect the shades of your eyes. I will smile, knowing that once upon a time I found you.
I have written a million and one pieces about you,about us,about love. Some I published online, like the asshole that I’m and that I do whatever I want. Some, my favorite pieces are in a place I sometimes I visit sometimes, my diary. I asked someone the other day to go through my online writing and give me their opinion, this is what they said, “however that person is,whom you have been writing about really did a number on you.” Why do people like stating the obvious? Of course you did a number on me.
Sometimes, I still hope it’s me and you in the end. sometimes its really you and me, in my dreams, obviously. Then I wake to a reality without you. I take it one step at a time, one sip of coffee at a time. I’m getting better at committing to a reality without you. I haven’t been able to fully commit to reality without you, but I try to get by. Someone once said, “living is better if the alternative is death because life is fucking precious. ” so I live even though sometimes I feel dead inside. I live on even if it means I need to remind myself to breath.
I have said a million times before that I’m letting you go. That it’s finally time to kiss it goodbye. I’m sure the internet is tired of my rambles about letting you go. I swear every time I wrote a piece about Goodbye at that particular moment I felt that way. That I was ready to let you go. Then something trivial happens like a friend brings you up and I go back to square. I go back to tracing your face with my hands, in my head. I go back to missing you, over think about it then put myself in a bad mood. Same old vicious cycle. Right now,at this moment, I’m ready to let you go.
If I keep obsessing about the past, I might miss the chance to fully live in the present. The future is bleak, it might be me and you in the end. Our roads might collide again. Fates have a weird sense of humour, they might make our paths collide one more time, for their amusement. Admit it, we were fun together, if our love was a movie I swear it would have been a classic. We will do what we do best, us.Self destruction as our signature move because we are both stupid. We both think that there’s some cosmic reason of why things are the way they are… and we will be stupid enough to give ourselves another chance. We will console our stupid selves with the typical line of everything happens for a reason. In the end, we will fuck it up more some more,worse than the first time. That’s just us. We thrived in ruining each other. Our love was a beautiful tragedy. It would have made a great love story.
I have been using my emotions less and less this days. I have learnt to control my emotions better. I don’t lash out anymore, I go silent instead. I don’t remember the last time I actually cried. I realized people are just that, people. I stopped manipulating people around me. I don’t even try to influence the decisions of those around me,I don’t even want to do that. I don’t let my hormones control me. I learnt my lessons.The last time I marked territory, the last time I let my hormones come out to play,
the last time I got all emotional and shit.The last time I was completely human, all naked and flawed I ended up with a Broken heart,
I ended up with so blood stains on my hands,
There were a few casualties,
I walked away with more than a scratch.
Now I use those things the same way we all spend our last coin.
I’m a little bit sad,though. My future is a clean slate right now. It doesn’t have an absolute someone and there are outcomes that I don’t know of myself. It breaks my heart a little, that someday I will give my life to someone else, someone who ain’t you and won’t scares me the most is I might even be happy doing it. Makes me weep that it won’t be you that I promise to love from infinity and beyond, that it won’t be your mother and sisters who plan our wedding. That I don’t get all mushy gushy inside when I officially join your family, that I will wear a white dress for someone else. And I won’t be the mother of your children, if I get some in future. That I don’t get to be mad at you over something stupid like leaving the toilet seat up. That I don’t get to be pissed at you for getting us double crust pizza or vice versa because it’s me, and you never got our pizza right, even when I spell it out for you. That I will make a life with someone who is not you. That we don’t get to celebrate your 50th birthday together. That I don’t get to bake you cookies on Sunday afternoon. That I don’t get to pass out on the couch with you on a regular Tuesday because the couch is warm and no one wants to walk to bed because it’s cold and our lazy asses can’t be tortured. We wake the next sore with a promise that we will never do that again. That I Will make memories with someone who ain’t you, and you will do the same with someone who ain’t me. It breaks my heart a little, but it’s for the best. Maybe I won’t even have a someone in my future, maybe I will get to do me all the way like you had predicted.
This morning I’m letting you go, setting you free. Today I’m closing that door completely. Today I will try to fully commit to a reality without you. I’m taking the first step by fixing myself coffee, take a shower, wear a smile and go conquer the world. I’m putting my guard high, I’m erecting the walls of my heart up. Until I find someone worth letting in. Today I promise myself to stop looking for you in everyone. I will stop telling my cousin sister about you. Today I’m going out there, try and live without staring at strangers eyes trying to decipher if they look like yours or what do those eyes lack and yours had. Today, I’m letting you go. I promise to stop using you as a scale of awesomeness on everyone I meet. Today is the beginning of a brand new day.