I imagine what I would say if I bumped into you on the street one day.
It’s surprisingly easy to romanticize heartache and make it look pretty, to wrap yourself in it and wear it like the t-shirt they left behind.
I remember wanting to say it out loud, but I couldn’t. I remember thinking you would say it, but you didn’t.
There is no “future you”. There never was. There is only now, there is only you, and that’s it.
Moving on is not forgetting.
I sometimes wonder who you became after you left.
I hope you find someone who shows you patience, and kindness, and grace.
One day, I will listen to the songs and they will be mine again.
There is a reason why you’re the one to get attached, the one who cares a little more, gives a little more, feels a little more.
Letting you go was removing every color from the filter I had put on my life the moment you and I became us.