RomanceBreaking Up

I Just Need To Get You Out Of My System

I tried to get you out of my system.

The same way my mum taught me to drink a lot of water if I was feeling I was coming down with something. You drink, take some vitamins, go to bed a bit earlier that night. Control the mess you feel happening inside you before it burst.

The thing with matters of the heart is that there is no immune system working in the background. We are left with our grieving heart and unexperienced mind to navigate through it. No mechanism to cope but the exact one that got us in the whole mess from the start: our decisions and flawed perception.

I must admit, that against my feminism and logic, I tried to get you out of my system. I tried to kiss foreign lips hoping they would heal the pain. I was hoping I would find in someone else’s arms everything I miss from yours. I found no lips taste like yours, and that cologne you use; I only like it when is on you.

I avoided every song that reminds me of you.

Every street that made me think of your name.

Every bar that used be ‘ours’.

Bits by bits you were supposed to become a faint memory, if things had gone to plan. But I still close my eyes and imagine your lips on mine. I can remember the way you said my name, or the way you vaguely stared at the notes when you played the piano.

My system still shivers, it still reacts. You are still part of me.

So, wouldn’t you let me know you have forgotten me already? Maybe that is the way I let go. Maybe you can let me know it didn’t mean anything. Don’t say it with excuses and metaphors. Say you didn’t care, say your lips were untrue and your touch deceiving. be the antibiotic, acting against yourself in me.

Maybe that way my system will get the cue and eject you from my memory, from my time and maybe then, my space won’t be filled with your memory. TC mark

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