You constantly plague my mind. I mean its decreased to a way lesser amount, the number of times you cross my mind, but its still significant enough that its distressing. Little things can be a trigger, a vibration of a Samsung phone, a song skipped on Spotify, or even a stranger passing by. Memories come rushing in, overwhelming me, and I have to stop and refocus myself. I tell myself that it is all a thing of the past, that you’re my past.
Sometimes I’ll hold conversations in my head, playing out hypothetical situations of us interacting. It’s relieving, almost cathartic, to spill what I have to say. Its sad though, its been nearly five months since you walked away and you still have such an impact on me. It scares me that this was the catalyst for change, a change so drastic, that I wouldn’t recognize the girl I was in that relationship. A catalyst necessary for this monumental of a transformation.
I do things that I would never even have dreamed of doing had we been together; that self-discovery stuff that I thought was bullshit –it actually isn’t. I mean just the fact that I’m writing, and writing consistently is proof. I’ve got a voice, I’ve got things to say, but no one who wants to listen. I’ve got passions I’m actually pursuing. Sometimes, I like to step back and just reflect on my change and look at the chain of events that are contributing to this metamorphosis.
There’s this artistic, creative side of me that’s been opened, a side that never would have been provoked if you hadn’t cut me so deep. I’m building my brand, I’m shaping who I am, and who I should be. It’s a critical change that can’t be influenced by your consuming presence. For months at a time, it was your music we listened to, your flavors we ate, your adventures we explored. You weren’t selfish, or inconsiderate, but just more sure of what you really wanted, and you had already developed in a way that I hadn’t.
Yes, you were that pathway into that change, and I could have gone in one of two directions; losing myself and reverting into the girl I was before I met you, or taking the positives and leaping off of them. Sometimes I think, you would love this girl I’ve become.
I’ve got purple hair, body that’s been inked, and a piercing that I adore. I’ve got a Spotify library that I’m proud to have curated. I’ve got strong opinions, beliefs that I’ve solidified. I’ve got social justice issues that I’m passionate about, that I’ve done significant research and reading on. I’ve got a mind that’s open to new, provocative ideas. I’ve got a safe-haven, a go to place that instantly calms me. I’ve got a mental illness that’s debilitating at times. I’ve got coping mechanisms that I’ve created for myself.
But the truth is, you don’t deserve to know that girl. Because that girl was only created when she suddenly had all this time, all this pain to guide this development. I credit you, and sometimes I’m grateful, but other times I just shake my head in disappointment. Its pointless to speculate about the future, but I just wonder about the possible outcomes, had we stayed together.
And I realize, they’re more bleak than I expected them to be.
This piece wouldn’t be written. That music collection wouldn’t be developed. Hundreds of stories from college adventures wouldn’t be told.
You set me free in a painful way, and I took that and spun it into a personality that’s dynamic yet down to earth. I thank you, but I would never want you to know the amount of positivity you’ve actually infused in my life since the break up.
You don’t deserve to know to be quite honest. I don’t want you to think that you’re the sole reason that I’ve blossomed. Because its me. I’m the one who picked myself off the ground, comforted myself, and told myself that I will get through this. I had the attitude, the determinism, and the courage to keep going. None of that was provided by you. I look forward to the day that you fade into a phase, and nothing more.
Because you and I were temporary, while this change is permanent.