I Want To Stop Writing About You. I Want To Stop Loving You. I Want To Stop.

image - Flickr / Franca Gimenez
image – Flickr / Franca Gimenez

I want to stop writing about you. I want to stop staring at my laptop trying to decide whether I will write about how much I love you or how much I hate you. I want to stop hearing the voices in my head arguing whether to love you without asking for anything in return or to destroy you in every way possible. I just want it to stop.

I don’t to want text you each morning to wake you up so you won’t be late for class anymore. I’m tired of helping you clean up your mess and fix your problems. I’m done looking at my phone hoping your name will appear to ask me how my was day or tell me how your day was. I have to end my daydreaming — that one day you will realize we belonged together all along. It was me who was there for you during your darkest hours. It was me who loved you when you could not even love yourself. It was me who understood every flaw you have and had, and loved you still because I know that’s what makes you whole.

I don’t want to kiss you anymore knowing that you are now dating someone else. I don’t want to hear you tell me, “We’re just friends,” while you kiss me on my forehead and hold my hands while you drive. I’m tired pretending it was okay with me to see you date other people and that I was happy with it, but deep inside it’s breaking every bone in body. Deep inside, it’s like I’m being crushed into a million tiny pieces and that pain goes deep into my soul.

I don’t want to hold on to the memories we used to have because it only brings me down. I don’t want to kill myself every night with thoughts of you being with someone else and not me. I’m done going back from the dead whenever you smile at me or say my name.

I just want to stop loving you. But I don’t know how.

So maybe tomorrow I won’t text you good morning. Maybe tomorrow, I will stop listening to the voice telling me to love you unconditionally and start listening to the faint whispers that tell me to move on. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll stop writing about you. But tonight, let me write the saddest lines. Just for tonight. TC mark

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