When I can get ready for work, and finally remember you’re not in my bed, trying to pull me back for another ten minutes.
When I can drive in the car, listen to the radio, and not hear a song that makes me think about how deeply I once loved you, or
how savagely I now hate you for leaving me alone.
When I can get through an hour without checking my phone hoping to see your name, asking how my day’s going… knowing now, that it’ll never come.
When I can come home, walk in the door, put my bag down, take a deep breath, and not be crushed by the lack of your physical
When I can lay down at night and fall asleep after hours of replaying our last conversation in my head, and knowing that I couldn’t save you, and I couldn’t fix us, because you didn’t want to be saved, and you didn’t want us to be fixed — again.
When I stop seeing your face, hearing your name, touching your skin, feeling you haunting me in my dreams.
When I no longer wake up gasping for air as soon as I realize that you’re no longer there beside me.
When I can start a new day, turn a new corner without fear of seeing your face, of seeing you with her. It doesn’t matter who she is — what matters is that she is no longer me.
When that thought no longer cripples me, and I can no longer feel the distant twist of the knife you once plunged in my heart.
When the pain turns to numbness, when the numbness turns to rage, when the rage turns to silence. No longer is it the deafening silence, but the calming silence.
When I realize that it will be okay.
It’s okay okay that you made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. I now know that I am.
It’s okay that you never met me halfway, that you never comprised, because I know that I always walked the extra mile for you.
It’s okay that you didn’t say you were sorry for destroying me and breaking my heart. I’ll rebuild those delicate walls that you so carelessly knocked down. Not stronger, but more flexible, so they can be accessed again someday by someone with the right tools.
It’s okay that you didn’t chase after me, beg me to stay. Because someday, someone will.
Someday, there will be someone who never makes me run in the first place. That makes me feel like being with him means being at home.
Someone that helps me be myself. Love myself. Someone that never makes me feel jealous or insecure. Someone that pushes me to become the best version of me.