I’m Not Ready To Say Goodbye

I'm Not Ready To Say Goodbye
God & Man

We both know that this has been coming for some time.

It was our fifth anniversary in a dim lit restaurant in the quirky side of the city. A candle light dinner and a five course meal, glasses clinking as we mouth the words “Happy Anniversary.”

I knew it right then and there when you looked at me. The eyes that I fell in love with lost its spark.

It looked at me with so much pity and the only thing I could ever do is bow my head and accept defeat. Although I felt something’s wrong, I never said a word. I suppressed every morsel of pain and forced every teardrop not to fall.

I waited till you we’re gone and I broke down into a million pieces.

This isn’t new to me anymore. I have grown so familiar in being left behind that seeing people walk out on me became so normal.

I was surprised that you lasted this long to stay. But I know in a few days, a few weeks or if I’m lucky enough in a few months, I know I’d be receiving the dreaded text message from you that we need to talk.

I’m not even sure if I’m ready, but I know I need to be.

I shall fill a box with random things that I’ve collected for the last five years. Faded movie tickets, a receipt from our first date, wilted flowers, Polaroid pictures, candy wrappers, wristlet from a theme park and a couple of love letters that wrote: “I love you” at the end. Everything and anything about us will be kept here and will be put away in the attic where it should probably be.

I will still send you “Good Morning” and “Good Night” messages even if I don’t get any response back. I’ll still remind you to enjoy the rest of the day, while drag myself to work and keep myself busy so I don’t think of you as often. I will still call you every night and tell you how my day went. It would be hard for you to listen to me for this has been our routine for the last five years. I will learn to appreciate your silence; the fillers and all our short lived conversations. I won’t hang up on you; I’d rather have this than nothing at all.

I will still sleep next to you and embrace you even when you turn your back. I always liked being the bigger spoon anyway. I’d take any chance I could get just to hold you a little tighter, a little closer and little more of you. Maybe this way you won’t be able to see me cry. I’d share all my sleep with you even if I barely get any, because soon enough you’ll be gone.

I will still make plans with you and settle for all your “something came up.” Cook dinner and fall asleep waiting for you. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night tossing and turning wondering where you are only to find you dozing off the couch. I’ll still tuck you to sleep. Kiss your forehead and tell you I love you.

I will still love you. I’ll say it every day.

Sure, for now you’d say it back, but it wouldn’t be the same anymore. I can no longer expect the same magical feeling that it used be.

Love has fallen out. Sparks have flown out the window. Magic has lost its power. And you will be out of my life.

I will watch everything vanish into thin air. All that would be left is bloody dagger plunged in my heart.

I’m not sure how long I could keep up with this. Repeating this whole damn routine over and over and over again, until everything I do bears no more meaning.

I’m not winning you back. I’m not doing this to change your mind. I just need to buy more time to be ready for your goodbye. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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