it’s been 7 months
and this morning i woke up in a room that’s not mine, in a bed with fresh sheets, with a pit in my stomach, and you on my mind.
i guess i have to stop thinking of him as the man after you and begin to view you as the boy before him. he is a man, and you aren’t.
you’re just a boy, and i should’ve known that, i should’ve seen that. but it’s too late for regrets and my drunken state consistently reminds me that you have no guilt in what you did or how you did it. my words are slurred and the view is blurry but it’s still clear that you aren’t who i thought you were. i somehow blame myself for that too.
i know that i’ve grown, i’ve grown exponentially. if you were to see me in my city by the park, you wouldn’t recognize me. the chaos doesn’t scare me and i’m comfortable on my own. i stand taller and my nails aren’t bitten but are instead painted a soft blue like the ocean i’m no longer afraid to swim in. i’m much smaller than i once was. but my confidence makes up for it. he tells me that i’m wise. that nothing throws me. that’s how i know i’ve changed. i used to be such a new soul, so terrified by the fear that i would mess this up, that i would mess you up. but i’m not anymore. he tells me i’m mysterious, that he can’t place my emotions. i no longer carry my heart on my sunburnt arm.
but you don’t care, you don’t care that i’ve grown, you don’t care that i’m different. you don’t want to know who i am now or what i want from life. maybe that’s why i have trouble letting go. because if i do, you’ll be lost forever.
i don’t love you anymore but i don’t want to lose you. i guess i already have though.
so here i am, half a year later, with tequila tinting my mouth and the taste of his lips engraved on mine, thinking of you. he doesn’t worry about that, it causes him no panic that you still appear in my head. he looks at me with those big, dark eyes and tells me that it just shows how deeply i care. that he feels so lucky to have my love. that there’s nothing else like it.
he’s not alarmed by my issues the way you were. you’re both so different, it’s difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that i once called you my soulmate, when everything makes endlessly more sense with him.
i wish you’d call, i miss your friendship. but the world moves on, the waves continue to wash away my memories of you, and i’m okay with being brand new.