Roses And Thorns

65

-Unhealthy fantasies.

In my wildest fantasies about us, I imagined a day when we'd run into each other, both out with friends.

It would be unexpected.

I'd casually greet your friends, who are mine too, while you'd make every effort to get my attention, showing me how much you've matured.

You'd take responsibility for the mess you caused and offer a heartfelt apology.

That warmth would wash over me, dissolving the daily struggle between my heart and mind and leaving me yearning for your presence as a gift in my life.

The spark we once had would still flicker between us, now softened by the sweet moments that connected us in new, healthier ways.

But then I also see the more realistic scenario—running into you at a mall or a restaurant.

You'd hardly recognize me, and I'd hesitate to say hi to your friends, worrying that you might be with someone new who slipped through the cracks of your broken heart.

In that case, I'd spend the entire time feeling tense, struggling to appear calm, while my heart raced like I was 16 again.

No matter how old I get or how far I go, that innocent version of me—acting on impulse, naive with you—will always be there.

And as the years pass, I know you'll feel a bittersweet pang when you hear or say my name, a momentary numbness as you suppress any shame or regret about how you treated me.

That's just how it is, I suppose.

The person who mattered most to me also hurt me the deepest, and he won't apologize or fight to return to my life.

He doesn't want to, and I've come to accept that.

I've finally uncovered the truth: the emptiness I saw in your eyes was a suffocating darkness, one that promised to swallow any innocent soul drawn to it, sending silent alarms to my mind even as it lured me in.

I no longer need to dwell on thoughts of you.

I've finally figured you out, and it's time to let go.