Why can’t I get over you?
That text. Why can that text set off so many things that you were so sure you were over? Why is it that it brings up every single emotion that you’ve been suppressing?
Because when you love someone that doesn’t change just because it’s over.
Then one Wednesday night (like every night before), you’re in a crowded bar drinking gin and pretending that everything’s OK. You’re pretending you haven’t been a mess for the last two months. You’re going to feel a tap on the shoulder, one you never thought you’d ever have.
He’s going to say he was hoping to run into you and you’re going to nod slowly. He’s going to offer to buy you a drink for old times’ sake so you can sit and reminisce about days gone by. A piece of your hair will fall into your face and he’s going to brush it behind your ear. Every sensation of loving him is going to come back but you’re going to push it down.
He’s going to act like nothing’s changed even though everything has. And you’ll be reminded of that when you see him continuously end calls that keep coming to his phone. You’re going to remember that he’s already moved on without you. The thing is though, that’s not going to stop him from looking into your eyes and saying all of those pretty words he used too.
After one too many you’re going to get up the nerve to ask him what the hell he’s doing here. He’s going to tell you how he’s not sure if he’s happy. He’s going to say he hasn’t been happy since you two were together. But you remind him that he’s the reason you’re not together.
You two are going to get lost in each other and laugh over all of the memories you made together. The good ones anyway. You’re not going to talk about the times you sat in your apartment crying, waiting for him to show up. You’re not going to talk about the times when you’d fight and how he’d walk out telling you it was done only to come back an hour later. You’re not going to talk about how this new girl he’s with started before you two even ended.
The night is going to wind down. You’re going to look at each other and he’s going to lean in and try to kiss you. You almost for one second get caught up in it but instead you push him away. You tell him to go home and you tell him to answer his phone the next time she calls. You tell him how she’s probably waiting up for him. You remind him how that you used to be the one waiting for him right now.
You’re going to find your nerve and tell him that getting over him was the hardest thing you ever had to do. He’s going to be silent and put his coat on. Right before he leaves, he’s going to turn around and say, “If you think getting over me was difficult then you should try getting over you.”
20 minutes after he’s gone and you’re still looking at your glass with your head spinning, you’re going to look down at your phone. You’re going to see numbers without a name associated with it but you’re going to know who it is.
Why can’t I get over you?
It’s a simple sentence with a complicated answer. But instead of answering, you finish your drink and go home.
Because you know that getting over someone requires you to move on without them. 
