I never let myself think about you.

On the occasions when you do pop into my mind, I busy myself with other things. Things get cleaned and organized, I IM random people at random times, I play with the dog.

This issue is that these thoughts aren’t occasional for me.


They used to be, but for whatever reason, as time goes on, I think about you more and more. During the day it’s quite easy to block you out, to distract myself from feeling like you are standing right behind me. Like you’re right here.
You’re not of course. But I feel you anyway.

Night time is where it gets trickier.

There is no one to call, nothing left to clean, and the silence lays me completely open to whatever thoughts you choose to invade. Sometimes I feel like you’re doing it on purpose, sending yourself over to my side of the world, conjuring me up in your own mind so strongly that I have no choice but for your to pop into mine. Sleep used to be some kind of solace for me, but you’ve gotten in there too. You are all over my dreams lately. Even if you are not the star, I catch you in the background somewhere, a face in the crowd. You’re watching me and I feel like you’re reading my mind. You’re silent but you know.

I took to writing you out of my brain but nothing comes out the way I intend it. I am editing and re-editing myself in ways that I am not even familiar with. There seems to be no accurate words to truly capture this purgatory I exist in.

I hate how we left things. That wasn’t who we were, right?

I’m starting to question so much of our past. And maybe that’s what bothers me; not that we left things the way we did, but what if the signs were there all along that we were not wholly what we imagined ourselves to be and this was inevitable? What if it was all a misunderstanding? A mistake? A fantasy that we took too far? What if it was all a dream?

Now it seems like no matter where I go, you’re there, somewhere, hiding in the background. I can never see you, but you give me goosebumps.

Why am I dreaming about you now? I don’t entirely know what triggered this assault on my senses or else I feel like I could stop it. But you’re just… EVERYWHERE.

Even this was not what I wanted to write. But I can’t seem to manage coherent thought when it comes to you.

It’s 3:30am and I’m awake, afraid to go to sleep because I know you’ll be there, waiting for me.

There used to be a time when I could hear whether or not you were asleep, if you were feeling the same thing, just by listening inside myself, even when you were a thousand miles away. There was a thread, a voice on the inside, that spoke where you were and what you were feeling if I just took the time to listen.

And now it, just like we, is silent.

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