Book Of Lies

• chapter ten •

"You're gone but you're on my mind, I'm lost but I don't know why"

"I'm trying to forget you."

I've been doing okay. I've been doing okay. I've been doing okay. A mantra plays in my mind. Progress. At last.

The new flat smells of fresh paint and pine. Somehow, it doesn't smell like home. Like you. And maybe that's okay. And maybe that's good. I've been going to new places and seeing new faces. I've been trying to find a new me that exists without you. I hope you understand.

There is no space for you in this healing heart. You are a scalpel and I am no longer made of flesh and skin, I am hardened like a medusa victim. I am okay. I am okay. I am okay.

But, there are fleeting moments in the day where your face flashes through my mind. When a breeze carries that cologne your mum bought you for Christmas that year I went home for the holidays with you. When I walk past the gardens we used to walk through after especially long days; hand in hand. And maybe that's okay.

Then there are also fleeting moments when I hold someone's hand in mine and I think of you. When I lay next to someone new in fresh grass. When I'm in a car that smells nothing like coffee and cigarettes, gazing at a different face. When I place a new photo of a new face on the wall above the fireplace. And maybe that's okay.

It's been a year.

"I'm trying to forget you."

I say to the last photo I have of you.

And while I know it's not true. I'll believe myself this time. And I'll keep believing it until it is true.

Because, maybe it's okay that you hurt me. And that I put myself first. And maybe it's okay that I can finally move on. And maybe it's good that I will always love you but, I'll never be in love with you again.

So I'll believe myself now.

Until one day, "I'm okay" doesn't have to be chanted in my mind. And I breathe you in and out for the last time.