I won’t bother asking why you think we didn’t work; I don’t think either of us will ever know that definitively. But I do have some other questions for you…
Do you miss me?
Do you miss my head against your shoulder when you sit on the couch, or are you just happy to have full control of the TV again?
Are you relieved that my snores aren’t keeping you up at night anymore, or are you finding that you can’t sleep without them?
Do you ever reach for my hand in the middle of the night, and feel a bitter sting of disappointment when you realize it’s not there?
When your friends ask you what happened between us, and you undoubtedly tell them it was for the best, do you really believe it? Or are you just trying to save face?
When you bring home a girl from the bar, do you tell yourself it’s just because you need to get laid? Or are you able to admit to yourself that you’re hoping she helps you forget me?
Does she sleep on my side of the bed?
Do you let her use my coffee cup in the morning? Don’t tell me you threw it out.
What did you do with the spare face wash I kept in your bathroom cabinet?
How about that extra pair of socks I left in your bottom drawer?
Does it kill you to look at these little reminders of me? Or did you discard of everything after I left, in order to pretend I was never there at all?
In case you were wondering, yes, I still have that book you leant me, the one I never read. I don’t think I’ll ever read it now. Would you like it back?
When you hear that Celine Dion song that I love (you know the one, I always sang it in the shower), do you think of me? Does it hurt at all?
One more question: has this been hard for you? Are you struggling as much as I am? Because although I know in my heart that we never would have worked, no matter how hard we tried, I still feel the loss of you in everything I do. I can’t hear certain songs, or walk past certain buildings without the memories rising in my throat like vomit. Your ghost haunts dozens of restaurants, movie theatres, parks and street corners. Even the city skyline has been tainted forever, because I’ll always prefer the view of it from your bedroom window.
I guess what I’m trying to ask you is this: have you already forgotten me? Because I haven’t forgotten you.