Here we go again. Another day of nothing and everything. Woke up, stretched, ate breakfast, did homework, ate lunch
listened to music, read a book, made some dinner, took my dog on a walk, went to sleep. All while thinking of you (and convincing myself I wasn’t).
Who are you, anyways? Who are you to inhabit my mind as if its yours, and make yourself at home in every corner of my brain, as if you own it?
Stop making me forget you. Because that would mean you’re making me forget parts of myself, that part of myself that was with you. That loved you.
loves Why is it so hard for you to get that you’re hurting me, and yourself too?
I don’t think you’re crying right now. You never did much of that. You told me that yourself, not that I trusted you, but when you said it, your eyes were solid and still. Like a scared animal’s,
were you scared of me?
so I believed you. You aren’t crying, but you aren’t not, either.
You know that whole five stages of grief thing? What is it? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance?
You’re doing that, without actually showing it. Without changing your face, or your expressions, or anything. I think you were trying to prove to yourself that you weren’t.
I still remember you
us walking in that field, our shoes thick with mud, talking about nothing, nothing useful anyways, and you just said it.
And you expected me to respond? As if you would, if the situations were reversed.
No, no. No you wouldn’t. Stop making me believe you would.
At least I did something, something you wouldn’t have.
I walked away.
- The girl you knew in high school