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It’s not you. It’s the memories. Remembering how I felt at that moment when everything was perfect and thinking it couldn’t get any better and the life blessed me one more time. The warmth of your presence was special and I couldn’t fathom how this was my life with you in it. But I noticed you struggled to hold on and it was inevitable that one day you were going to let go. And all of a sudden I’d feel cold. Became cold. The effect you have on me is a weakness I want to shake away more than anything else in the world. I don’t want it anymore. Scrolling past images that are now just a distant memory that I want to relive. These moments I will always cherish but for now I want to let them go so I can finally progress in my life . All my life I craved the feeling of being loved but mostly, being truly understood even at times when I don’t make sense. I wish for someone to show me compassion and engage with me when I tell them about the day that I had. You didn’t do that. I’m not upset at the fact that we’re apart, I’m upset at the fact that I’m here feeling the fabric of my pillow case dampen as I express my unfinished sadness to a screen, while you on the other hand, are living freely with someone else around your arm. Someone else who seems to make you happier than I ever did. I will never wish any harm on you, but I hope one day I can experience that warmth once again. It’s nights like this where I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. I fear that there is no one who will love me for me and get to a point where they’ll know my quirks and flaws yet have no intention of turning away. My heart has gone through enough. It’s on the verge of shattering into a million pieces but I’m holding it together as best I can. Each day I endure knowing the fact that you’re no longer in my life I feel like I’m inhaling. Like I’m holding my breath waiting for a better day. When the day comes that I can look at you and exhale with relief, I think I can experience true happiness. And that all it’s about at the end of the day. Happiness.
It’s not you. But one day it’ll be someone else. And I’ll be able to breathe in his inviting presence, unlike yours I had mistaken for warmth that was a shivering chill in disguise.
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