Distant Thoughts

Therapy

I was never good at math. I couldn't ever tell you how many days we spent together, or how many hours it took for me to get tired of the distance between us, or how many nights I spent laying awake and wishing you were holding me.

But I was good at you.
I was good at knowing the exact thing to say when everything was falling apart, when you felt like your family hated you, like my friends hated you, like my family didn't approve of you. I knew how to fix it.
I was good at picking up right where our texts left off. I was good at kissing the soft spot on the side of your neck, at clawing at your skin.
I was good at loving you. At staying up with you when you needed me, at making you laugh so hard your eyes watered and your sides ached. I was good at showing you there's more things to life than just being stuck in your room all day.

I was never good at anything but you.

I can't make decisions. I can't decide what book to read, or what song to listen to when it's raining at three A.M on a cold Friday night. I can't decide whether to order chicken fettuccini again or to try something different at my favorite restaurant. I can't decide whether or not to stay or go. I can't decide whether or not life is worth living.

But don't ever think for one second that I couldn't decide on you.

With you, I knew. I knew that even if things got bad I would still stay. Never once did I doubt that I didn't love you. That even if you were a terrible human being, I didn't want to be with you. I knew for a fact that I loved you.

So why are you so indecisive now?

I can't finish things. I can't finish this story. My sketchbook is full of half-finished drawings and work in progresses. The fridge is full of leftovers I didn't eat. There's three books on my desk that I read half of and put down.

I need answers. I need solid, tangible evidence. I need logical reasoning. I'm the type of person that can't stand it if you don't get results. I can't bear to leave things unfinished, but I do it all the time. I can't stand leaving things in a bad light.

I think that's why I can't handle losing you.

But it's only when I sit down, and turn off the lights, and close my eyes; that thoughts of you come flooding in. Sometimes it's not even then. Sometimes I can go for very long periods of time without sparing you even a thought.

I had therapy today. It was a disaster. It brought back a lot of things for me, one of them being you. I'm not back to square one but I am allowing myself a few minutes to hurt right now.

I keep running in circles, and going under mountains. I keep taking twists and turns and I don't make any sense anymore. I've lost my touch and I'm not on an even keel anymore. My scars have healed but if you look close enough, they haven't completely faded away.

I still miss you.

But I love you less and less each day.

We made those memories for ourselves. In those pictures we took, where we're frozen in place, we're all smiles and laughs and expressions of love and comfort. In those pictures, we're in love and we think that nothing can tear us apart. We think we belong together and we think we are each other's. We dove head first into the relationship and we never thought we'd be torn apart. We never thought we at least wouldn't even be friends.

In those pictures, we're happy.

Now, take it apart, examine it, build it back up, sew it back together, and we never belonged together. We never could have stayed forever. It never would have lasted.

I'll keep the pictures and I'll keep the memories. I'll remember forever how you could stop the voices in my head and the screaming in my ears with one stroke of your fingers.

And that's okay.

All I want is for you to get to the point where you cherish our memories too, and you learn from the mistakes.

I really did fucking love you. And I'm really sorry that I did.