I know you can’t save me from what’s about to happen, but I’m tired of being strong for myself. Tired of not having you in my life. Tired of trying to not think about you. And as terrifying as the future is now, you know I’m not a hypocrite, and I know it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
Sometimes I take the bus, walk our paths, sit in our old haunts. Hoping to catch you at a distance, so I can see how you’re wearing your hair and know you’re okay. Strangers on a train, hoping in my head that you’d sit and talk to me so we can laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all.
Sometimes I find these pictures of you I don’t remember taking, in glasses I don’t remember you ever wearing, in places I don’t recognize. A strange gap in my mind in an otherwise vivid set of experiences, and I wonder if on that day our bodies ever touched.
And while I’m sure some would blame these thoughts on the season or the breakup, the simple truth is I never realized how alone I was until the phone rang today, and I haven’t taken a breath since.