this is how it’s going to go. 
i’m going to throw away all of the letters. all of them. even the ones that say “i love you,” and “i promise i’m not going anywhere.” i have no use for them now.
i’m going to burn them in the forest beside the tree where we carved our names. and while i’m at it, i’ll cross your name out altogether.
i’m going to fold up your sweater. you know, the grey one. the one you wore the night we first met. i’m going to fold it up and put it in goodwill. a stranger will buy it and wash your scent out of the fabric and our memories out of the seams. we don’t exist to them. 
i’m going to buy new bed sheets. ones that have never felt your skin. ones that have never been wrapped around your body at 2 pm on a Sunday afternoon or 1 am on a drunk Saturday night. i’ll wash the old ones with bleach and put them in the back of the closet. i’ll never use them again. 
i’m going to paint my room. these walls have seen too much, and if i can’t tear them down, i will paint over them. i will cover up the eyes that watched us fall in love and then watched me fall apart. when i’m done, you won’t even be able to pick these four walls out of a line up.
i’m going to cut my hair. an inch for every month we were together. you said you liked long hair, and i guess this will be just another thing that you don’t love about me anymore. 
i’m going to delete your number. it has been two months since you left and one months since we last talked. i have waited this time because you said you would call again. but you are never going to. and sometimes, i no longer want you to. i’m going to delete your number because i need to stop texting you in the middle of the night when all of my thoughts come rushing in about how good things used to be. you don’t miss me too and that is fine. or at least it will be.
i’m going to stop doing things that i think would have made you happy. i am going to start doing things that make me happy. i am going to stop living for you and finally start living for myself. i am going to stand on the bridge that separated us so many times, and i’m no longer going to look for you on the other side. i’m no longer going to look for you at all. it just hurts too much to always be looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found. not by me, anyway.
i’m going to stop checking up on you. you are happy. you got a girlfriend. you found love again. and all it does is remind me that you are all the things that i’m not. but i promise you, one day, i will be okay.