Hello there.
How are you?
It's been a long time since we spoke and I don't think you care much for it anymore. But I just wanted you to know that I miss missing you.
I miss how easily I could plunge myself into misery every time I thought of you. I miss how quickly my mental capability crumbles when something reminiscent of you comes up. I miss how wearily my hands tremble when I torture myself looking through our pictures.
But now, all that seem to be a dream away.
I guess for the first time in a long while, I'm finally not sad. I guess for the first time in a long while, I can see people as they are, instead of as distractions. I guess for the first time in a long while, thoughts of you settled peacefully in my mind instead of the usual storm they rage.
But I know this won't last. As with all things, this too will go away soon enough. All I need to do is fuck it up and it would leave me alone with my misery again.
I knew I found my inspiration to write the day I lost you.
But now I'm struggling to even spin a line.
I'm not saying you're no longer important to me.
No, you are still the unreachable constellation in my every sky, the scar of anguish down my throat in every breath, the brilliant smell before rain and the expired blood in my veins.
Time is trying to work its magic. Time is trying to get me to relinquish my position as the keeper of our memories.
The guilt. The guilt has finally let me go.
(but I don't know how to be free)
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