literature

this is what you're allowed.

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neverwastewishes's avatar
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Literature Text

you don't have to delete her phone number, and you keep the saved texts from her in your cellular. some of them still make you smile, all of them still make you cry, and what else is there to stare at when you can't sleep at night? except, of course, the profile listed under her name on a social networking site you don't actually have. you can go read This profile is set to private. This person only allows friends to see their information. until the lights blur, but be prepared for the mocking of that +1 Add Friend button.

friend's-list-friends is not the same as real friends; you know that. this is just another step in the process. denial. you can do this.

you can vomit when at first you wake. you know, because you telephoned your therapist in a panic at six in the morning on the third day it happened, and she assured you it was anxiety. this is just another step in the process. guilt. you can do this.

you can memorize her crooked teeth, the way her shirts dip into the small of her back. you can observe her nails bitten down shorter as the days drag past; carefully analyze her walk, the haphazard pitches of her speech, and the messy way she curves her "s." you can buy her a drink or twelve; only dimly register the heat of her palm on your shoulder, or be entirely hyper-aware. depression. reflection.

you can watch her walk away, but you can never follow. this is just another step in the process. loneliness. you can do this.
the seven stages of grief or this is what you're allowed.

if you think it's about you, you're paranoid.
but it's probably still about you.
© 2011 - 2024 neverwastewishes
Comments2
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MayasWorld's avatar
you are such an amazing writer. ;n; this made me all sad and shit.