i want to say that getting over you will take time, that it will be long and slow and difficult, but the truth is that i don’t think it will be difficult. i think it will be impossible. it’s been months and months and i’m still here, wanting you, wishing for you. it has been 103 days since you broke my heart and i still feel sick at the idea of letting you go, living without you.
“but whenever a love song came on, i’d think about you. whenever i couldn’t sleep, i’d think about you. whenever something incredible happened, you’d be the first person i’d want to tell. whenever i was sad, i’d only ever want to talk to you. whenever i wanted to be touched, i only ever wanted to be touched by you. on a rainy day i’d want to curl up in bed with you. on a sunny one i’d want to drive around with the windows down with your hand on my thigh. it’s you. it has fucking always been you.”
whoever says silence is not a sound has never been alone for so long that they write a song to the beat of their own heart or memorize the rhythm of their breathing. only then, amidst utter silence, can you close your eyes and hear a symphony.
after all this time
i thought it was just my heart
that hurt and
could be broken
but today i felt something
deeper
behind my heart
and my lungs.
i think maybe
it was my soul.
it started as a dull ache
in my ribs
and tightened my lungs
so my breaths became short
and then i swear
i felt you in my body
knocking on my heart
as if to say
i’m never letting you go.
