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Four months.

Four months since I looked in your eyes, four months since I heard the sound of your voice. Four months it took me to start slowly forgetting you, to stop worrying if I was going to run into you. To stop feeling like I’d have a panic attack at the very thought of you. Lately though, it’s ramped back up. The last two weeks I’ve found myself thinking about you. Maybe it’s the time of year, inching closer to that moment we swiped right on each other, not knowing what the next year was going to bring us. Maybe it’s the changing of the Seasons, weather’s getting colder. Leading me to think of all the nights we curled up in bed together, the intense warmth of your body that I loved so much when the snow was filling our streets. The early mornings, music blaring while I heard the shower start up and you’d start to sing. It’s always easier to focus on the positive.

It’s kind of funny, I remember you saying if you just stayed away that maybe it would help me heal faster. I don’t know if that’s true. Four months went by so incredibly slowly, I’d feel your presence with me in the most isolated of times and places. It’s almost like when I left, I took a piece of you with me forever. That even when I felt the most alone I’d ever felt in my life, that I could close my eyes and you’d tell me to let whatever it was go because “It is what it is.” Behind closed eyes, I could feel you pull me in and wrap your arms around me. Reassuring me that I was stronger than I thought, that you saw passed my worries and insecurities. You saw the good in me, the love, the intellect, the strength I had.

Some days I wish I could just forget it all, maybe then I wouldn’t be the way I am now. Closed off, jaded, emotionally unavailable. I don’t even know if I’m happy most days. I’m not depressed, I’m just numb. Coasting through the days, in and out, sun up, sun down. I keep trying to figure out what my purpose in life is, trying to figure out what to do with myself. Instead I just stick to an isolated routine, something familiar and safe. I shut down, shut out and go about my day. I feel like if I at least keep it consistent, there’s no way I can fall back into the way you left me.

Oddly enough, when I heard your voice again… It felt like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. I felt like I could breath again, what a fucked up concept. How I could go from being in the lowest place of my life, to feeling like I’d finally come out of a lifetime of darkness. You still have that hold on me, I hate that if you ever read these words, those narcissistic parts of you will smile. Knowing that no matter the time passed, you still have that kind of hold on my emotions. So why am I so thankful, why did it feel so good to speak to you again? What is it about us, that is so strong that with everything that happened it still brought a masochistic smile to my face when I heard the sound of your voice.

-A.