Friday night, I decided to be happy.
I decided around lunchtime that what was weighing my soul down wasn’t worth it.
I decided that that crippling debt, will be there on Monday morning – and in all honesty, will just have to wait to be paid. I decided that I will never please my parents but maybe I can try to be nicer to them. I decided the world will not end if I didn’t send that report to the revenue team by 3pm sharp, I sent it a 3:10 and they just thanked me.
I half-heartedly decided I don’t have to look like a Victoria Secret model today, nor tomorrow. Because I bet your untrained eyes can’t tell if I woke up 2 pounds heavier, but my soul somehow can. I decided yesterday I could love what I saw in the mirror even if it wasn’t as toned and fit as what I saw on my Instagram feed.
Out of all the things I decided, forgetting you wasn’t one of them. I thought it was a given, I thought I had done the mourning of your memory, that you just wouldn’t find a way back into my heart. How could you possibly? I have surveyed the web and followed each one of the tips to forget you. But Friday night in the middle of my happiness you found a way into my mind, for a split of a second I wished I could be this happy with you around.
I took a picture of my evening and posted it online to make the world see how happy I was so I could have a track record of my cheerfulness. Pictures or it didn’t happen, likes or it isn’t real.
My phone lights up, it’s you. I realized you should have been the first thing I should’ve decided to erase from my life. Now you are there and I get excited to have a mediocre conversation with you. The bar around me suddenly fades and I can see myself from the outside, this excited kid; face lit up, so in love with a ghost of someone she wishes she had.
I see it all so clearly, your flaws and mine. The unequivocal time when you realize you need to go, run as far away as you can or you’ll be forever trapped in a half love. Enough to keep you guessing but never enough to light up the fire you need, the fire you deserve.
Friday night I decided to be happy.
Friday night I decided to ignore the weight of your memory in my heart.
Friday night I decided it wasn’t as easy as just “deciding.”
Saturday morning, between aspirins and coffee, I still haven’t decided if I can let you go, or if I even want to.