It took a long time for me to leave the thought of you behind. It was an effort, not an occurrence. But I shouldn’t have to try to forget you, because that means you’re still very much remembered.
I remember you because you’re gone, and I think of you because of the way you left.
But when I think of you, it doesn’t mean I’m holding on; it means I’m retracing my steps. And when I try to fit my feet back in the footprints that I left when I was with you, I can’t. Because we’re both pointing in different directions. And every time I try to go back I end up in the same place. Here. Because retracing you is like tracing a circle, I’m not sure if I ended where I started, so I’ll just keep going, but I can’t begin to draw another shape unless I lift the pen.
And each time you cross my mind the doubt crosses with it. What could I have done differently? How could I have convinced you stay? But it wasn’t you who needed convincing, it was me, because I hadn’t convinced myself that this was something I deserved.
But from every mistake there’s a lesson learned, and you have been quite the teacher. Because when I was with you I felt whole, and when you left I felt depleted, but now I realize needing someone else to make you full only leaves you empty.
So now that you’re gone I find other ways to fill my time, other thoughts to fill my head. But every once in a while you creep back in. And when that happens I think about how long it’s been since I thought of you before, and each time the gap widens. So will there ever come a time when I don’t think of you at all?