I Don’t Love You Anymore, And That Terrifies Me
I think a part of me doesn't know who I am without you. Without the part of my heart that longs for your warmth. Without the part of me that wants you desperately. Without the part of myself that adores you to no end.
I don’t love you anymore. I know, it’s shocking for me too. I’ve wrestled with this idea in my mind for months now, going back and forth between feeling amazing and feeling miserable.
Truth be told, not loving you anymore, makes me want to weep. It makes me want to feel something. Anything other than this weird euphoria that has overtaken my heart.
I guess it took me long enough. I should be thrilled. I should feel free. Cleansed from your ghost that used to haunt me every day. But, honestly? All I feel is terrified. All I feel? Is lost.
I was always supposed to be this love sick girl. This girl who wrote and wrote about her one true love that got away. I was supposed to always have you on the back of my mind. To be the girl who couldn’t and wouldn’t stop writing about this one person. No matter how much time has passed. No matter how many years that have gone that turned your face blurry.
You were always supposed to be the one I loved forever.
Maybe I found comfort in my own misery. That no matter what, at least you were in my dreams and in my daydreams. You were always my lighthouse, no matter how bad the currents threw me over board. You were always supposed to be my muse. My broken little art collection. The one person that had the power to make me weak.
You’re not that person for me anymore. And I honestly don’t know when it happened or when I figured it out.
But one day, you weren’t on my mind when I passed by where we had our first kiss. You weren’t on my mind when I passed by where we carved our initials on a park bench. You weren’t on my mind even when someone mentioned your name. You were just gone.
I think a part of me doesn’t know who I am without you. Without the part of my heart that longs for your warmth. Without the part of me that wants you desperately. Without the part of myself that adores you to no end.
Who am I, when I’m not the broken hearted writer? Who am I, when I don’t love you anymore? Who am I, when I’m not tortured from the loss of you? Who am I without the piece of my heart that got sewn on back without you?
Maybe I’m terrified because I don’t know what it means to be me, without you by my side, or on my mind, or in my dreams. Maybe I’m terrified that the love that we shared, is officially gone, now that I don’t feel it anymore. And maybe I’m just scared, that if I fully move on from our love, it’ll be gone forever.
And what’s a world without love? What’s a world without love, even if that love is broken? 
