That moment when you’re looking at a recent picture of an ex you miss deeply but realize… you’re not attracted to them anymore. But wait, if I’m not attracted to you… then why do I miss you? If it’s not attraction, then what am I holding on to? A friendship so far gone that neither of us remember it anymore? Do I even know what I’m still desperately grasping on to? If I’m being honest with myself, if I dig deep, I don’t. I honestly don’t know what I’m grasping on to. But it’s something and even though you’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want me in your life anymore, I’m still holding on.
And I need to let go.
I need to let go of you smile that made me know everything was okay, would be okay, eventually. I need to let go of your laugh that convinced me that things weren’t that bad. I need to let go of your pleading eyes when you would say, “then help me understand” when I would tell you that you didn’t understand. I need to let go of your eyes, how they looked at me, how concerned they always were with sincerity. I need to let go of the soul that cared for me and would do anything to make sure I was okay. I need to let go of the arms that would hug me tightly, not caring who saw. I need to let go of the boy who didn’t care what others said about me, all he cared about was if I was okay. I need to let go of the friend that never judged. And I need to let go of the hope that you would someday love me too. Because you never did and you won’t. And now, eight years later it doesn’t matter anymore.
I still think that’s a pimpin anniversary date. Sad that’s not how the story ended. Here’s to what could had been our ten years but was never meant for us.
Here’s to a new year, and to letting you go.