Train of thought
It's really fucking annoying that every time I see a picture of you, I'm suddenly neck deep in memories from two years ago.
I get lost thinking about the way your rough hands felt against my soft skin. The soft voice you'd use to tell me to go to bed when I've fallen asleep in your lap again. The rise and fall of your chest as you snore away beneath me like a car engine faintly wheezing in the distance.
I remember every word you ever spoke to me. Every compliment you ever gave me, and the way you looked at me the moment we first met.
Had I known, in that moment, that my world would stop spinning, and my life would be inexplicably tangled in yours, I would have shut the door.
I loved you,
I've never been able to shake that truth. And when people ask about you, and they often do, I recount our stories with a softened fondness and have nothing but love and respect for you.
Even when I fell in love again, I spoke of you. I'd moved on entirely, and had fallen in love faster than I'd ever imagined, but I still would speak of you.
And things ended, he left in just the way you did. Ready to tackle the world ahead and become the man he needs to be.
Maybe that's what I'm meant for; to love people so hard they start to love themselves. He once told me I walk around, and just make everyone better. And I think that's true.
I loved you so hard, yet not enough to let you go. You've become who you were always meant to be, and I'm glad I got to share that chapter of your life with you.
My last love is well on his way to that point too, the one that marks the day where he no longer wants me around. He's already mostly gone, it's only a matter of weeks until the silence overtakes us and this sinking ship hits the ocean floor.
Although it always feels like I'm drowning, I'm the kind of woman who goes down with her ship. Now it's time to be my own captain, and love myself the way I loved you both.