you will never be forgotten.
ever.
your name twisted into metaphors and colors and distractions will forever
be painted across pages and pages of her favorite brand of notebook,
no matter how many she burns
there will always be one she forgot,
and she will only find it once she had almost forgotten you.
she will find the one Papyrus notebook
and all of your metaphors and colors and disractions will come flooding back,
just like how the ocean in your eyes
flooded her heart all those years ago.

The alarm buzzed.
I didn't hit the snooze button.
Instead, I woke up. I woke up and it felt different already.

I didn't love you anymore.

I didn't want to stay in my bed and cuddle with you. My bed sheet didn't smell like you. My misbuttoned shirt didn't crave for your attention. Nor did my shabby hair locks long for your touch. My room felt bigger, brighter. And the frosty window pane looked clearer than before. The walls stopped closing in. I could see things vividly. I could hear my heartbeat. I could feel the warmth of my hands. I could move my lips. My neck felt less burdened. Most importantly, I could breathe, normally. My eyes weren't watery anymore and that pain that weighed down on my chest was long gone.
All that gone. Just like that.

I didn't love you anymore.

I didn't think of you in the shower. Your thoughts never came rushing into my head. Your memories didn't bother me. My morning coffee tasted better and the newspaper made much sense. The last voicemail you send seemed cracky and those photographs on the wall were all washed out. I forgot your smile, the way your eyes glanced into mine. Everything about you was a faded memory now. For the first time in many long years, I felt no pain. I felt free. I felt like myself. I felt alone. But being alone didn't scare me at all. Being alone felt natural, quite natural.

I smiled. Just because.
I didn't love you anymore.