Saving Myself

Three years of silence. Blocked.

It was a tactical retreat

to dampen the heartbreak.

Half-hearted responses

when hearing your name,

living every moment as if

you never existed, save

the exceptionally dark nights

drowning in "what ifs"

and reminiscing the person

you were... who I thought you were.

☁︎

Thirty-six months should

have been enough to dissipate

and scatter these cursed feelings

into the passing breeze to oblivion.

Yet ignoring things didn't solve

the underlying issue that sat

when seeing you in person became

a possibility rather than a daydream.

☁︎

I hated myself for the butterflies.

Cicadas would be a more fitting term.

Beings lying dormant all this time only to

claw its way back to the surface

of both my mind and heart.

So I did what I had to in order to live on;

I taught myself to hate you

not that you made it very difficult.

☁︎

A hundred and fifty-two weeks

is ample time for a person to change

to experience the beautiful painful

whirlwind that is living every day.

The boy who wore character onesies

and had a boyish smile paired

with starry eyes filled with infatuation

for his then crush turned to be

someone unrecognizable. Self-important

attitude, pierced ears and no care

for this supposed friend he made

a thousand and ninety-five days ago.

☁︎

That moment of self-doubt and fear

that the flame re-sparked was short lived

doused by the cold bucket of reality.

The act of hating him so I wouldn't hear

about this new persona, at some point

became the truth I don't regret.

☁︎

And so he changed

but I had as well

the me who always put

others before myself,

when faced with a choice

of you or me...

I chose the person in the mirror.

I can't say I quite love her

but we are coming terms

that she isn't all that bad.

🔆