The Art Of Our Thoughts

The nothingness between us pt. II

I'm almost there. At that place.

Where I can talk to someone and not think twice about if they're telling the truth, if they're making me fall, if they're about to reach for my neck and twist it.

And I still see you. At first it was everywhere I go, in the streets, on the subway, on the roof.

Now you're in my dreams, and when I wake up in the morning, you stay in my bed while I go on about my day with a clanking noise coming out of me, because my heart is still in pieces, but it's almost there. 

I've updated my vocabulary from "I'm okay" and "I'm fine" to "I'm doing good" and "It doesn't hurt as much to breathe lately"

And people smile, they see me. They really see me because I let them, and I discovered that that is one step closer to getting there, to let people see how broken you've made me and the progress I've made.

Drinking water seem a whole lot easier when there isn't a lump in your throat threatening to turn into a full crying session while you're jogging at six in the morning.

When I walk into a room full of people, I do not step and count how many there are, how many of them look like you, if they all have eyes and ears and a mouth, and perhaps a beating heart. I don't feel like human contact will burn me, will break me, will make me cry and wonder why you did what you did.

As days pass, I realized it's getting easier to write about something that is not you, to listen to music without thinking of you, to read a damn book without imagining you as every single character.

I think I'm there. I'm at that place.

Because at some point everything turned from dark and grey, to my rainbow and I never thought it would look so beautiful.

That the world would look so beautiful without you in my life.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Dedicated to : Me

-S.S.