I Don’t Know You Anymore, But I Think I Still Love You

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I still love you,
but in the quiet way
in the,
“I’m not actively in love with him anymore”
way.
In the
I still love you,
somehow
way.

I do not know you anymore,
so I guess it’s unfair to assume
our hearts would
CLICK
resume.
As if no time passed.
Like pressing pause for multiple years
is nothing.
Like we’re still always going to be something.
When secretly,
I’m terrified we’d be nothing.

I’m soaked in our memories
and everything tastes like those
late night phone calls
long after our ending
that you wouldn’t want the world to know
exist.

It’s hard to run fingers over a box
of memories
that are still electric
and think,
maybe it’s truly done.
Maybe we had our lifetime
already.

Maybe,
we got what we got.
And it’s unfair to fantasize
about us anymore.

But I still wonder how are you.
Burns a little whenever I realize
I can’t reach out.
You’re not mine to ask about.
Even if you were,
for so long.
You were mine,
for so long.

I still flinch when I hear your name.
Did you know,
it’s been four years since we’ve kissed?
I’m on fire
and still dream of you once a week.

You love someone else,
and so do I.
We have made homes in beds
and it’s fine.

But you exist somewhere deep inside.
I’ve never been able
to bleed you all the way out.

I’ve never been able to
fully commit
to a life where you and I
don’t exist. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

✨ real(ly not) chill. poet. writer. mental health activist. mama shark. ✨

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