Do you remember what if felt like to look in the mirror and see that the blue in your eyes was glistening a little bit brighter than usual? Barely even noticeable, just a tiny ocean speck. You probably noticed it right after he told you he loved you for the first time, maybe even after the first time he kissed you and he held your face just right. You really only noticed it after he told you it was there, after he gave you a reason to see it. It’s been months since the light has shone behind your eyes; mine too, it’s okay. All the nights once spent tangled up together planning the future that you know is each other, turn into nights that you wonder if he’s okay; if he’ll text you; if he needs you. There are no more lazy Saturday mornings, woken up by morning breath and intertwined legs.
The October memories you’re holding onto are just that, memories, nostalgia you can’t seem to let go of. The four walls that used to watch you hold onto him like you’d float away if you didn’t, now watch you grip your bedsheets, searching for a way to be okay.
All those pictures flying around your room, all the stories that begin and end with him, all the plain white t-shirts, all the songs you can’t listen to without seeing his eyes burning in your mind, all the days you left his bed at 2pm because you couldn’t get enough. Just like that. As quickly as he gave you that light, he took it away and replaced it with an emptiness that feels like indifference.
It kind of feels like you’re fighting a war you know you’re going to lose; you’re fighting as hard as you can but it still feels like you’re losing, you can feel the strings holding you to him tugging at the seams; it’s draining, it’s exhausting.
It feels like you’re losing yourself in the process of losing him. You start to miss all the things you never realized were there; the way he said your name, the times you could hear his heartbeat while he tangled your hair, how you used to wake up and pull on his hand until he pulled you closer.
It’s an endless ache wondering if he’s trying to forget you while you’re trying to make him stay long enough to get to the parts of life he promised you.
You love him, anyone could see that, a stranger could guess it. Through it all, you’re sending more love in his direction than your little body even thought possible. It’s okay to love him. It’s okay to love him so much that your whole body feels like it’s going to lift off the ground when he holds your hand, so much that you wake up searching for his hand to do it all again.
He built your world, he put the stars in your sky and in your eyes, he created the kind of love that you’re in. Only now, your world is a bit more dull and your stars are a bit more dim and the love is just a little bit more difficult.
Getting out of bed every morning is harder now; putting gas in your car, brushing your hair, making breakfast, finding the time to go to your favorite coffee shop to get your favorite remedy… it’s all harder now. But, every high has an equivalent low and maybe this is the low you have to go through to break even. Maybe next month or next Monday or tomorrow morning is the day your low begins to veer up. Maybe he will show up at your door with your favorite flowers in a mason jar that reads “I love you”. Maybe he won’t.
Maybe your low can only be turned around by you deciding that after all the times you’ve said you can’t handle it anymore, to stop handling it and face life on your own. Maybe this is all to teach you a lesson, to make you tougher, to make you softer, or maybe just to make you love yourself enough to see that light within yourself when you’re alone.
