It’s Not You

I have to keep reminding myself that you’re not the person I knew anymore. I look at the ignored messages and I have to tell myself the person I miss isn’t who you are anymore, because you’ve changed. There’s an unrecognizable monster where the person who held my whole heart used to be. It’s not you I miss.
I miss laying in bed talking while corse fingers trace the veins of my wrist. I miss hearing “don’t lie to me” when I try to hide how upset I am. I miss playful sexist banter back and forth. I miss the intense stair that catches me sneaking glances causing my face to turn a slight pink. I miss strong arms wrapped around me as a hoarse voice tells me “everything’s okay now” and “it was just a nightmare” and “I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore”.
I miss fingers tangled in my hair. I miss being tickled. I miss falling asleep to Disney movies playing in the background. I miss laughing in spite of however I’m feeling.
But it’s not you I miss. No. I can’t miss you. You aren’t the person I knew anymore. The beautiful person I fell in love with is long gone

delusional--thinking

you’re going to fall in love with a girl
with hair a little longer than mine, another writer-type with all sorts of ideas about things but perhaps a little less aggressive about them, you’re going to kiss her in the ways i taught you and you’re going to figure out some new ways too and when the two of you have sex, she will be just a little bit better at it than i ever have been

you’re going to fall in love with a girl that smells good enough you bury your face in the curve of her neck and her tummy will never growl like
mine always did. she’ll be deep and mysterious but she won’t come with the heavy past sitting on her shoulders. she won’t ever keep you awake with worry. she’ll always text you back
and never bite too hard and never act in a way she can’t explain later. she will not cry when she gets drunk, she’ll just fall asleep beside you.
you’ll fight with her sometimes because all couples fight but it won’t be with the teeth and claws that we had, it will be almost gentle, it will be over before it really gets going

you’re going to love her until you’re no longer really sure if what we had was all that special. you’ll start badmouthing me to all your friends. you’ll forget about me in most moments and eventually you won’t even be able to tell someone what our first date was or our first kiss or even if you fucked me
the last time that we spoke. i’ll just be gone to you, just a memory of a memory, a girl with dark eyes, a half-capable poet, some word on your tongue you’re no longer sure of but you remember that you used to know it.

i will no longer be important.

I’m still holding out hope that somehow someway we’ll end up together in the end…” /// r.i.d  (via c-oquetry)