Trouble Moving On

I saw your name in my phone. A voicemail from weeks ago that I never deleted. For a moment I stopped breathing. It felt like nothing had changed. It felt natural to see your name there. I pressed play. You said it was the first time you’d heard my voicemail. You called me adorable and I smiled probably just like I did when I heard it the first time. You said you missed me and I really didn’t realize how much I loved hearing you say that until you stopped saying it. I hit points where I finally think I am over it, when I think I can move on, but then I see an old picture, and old text, and old voicemail and all of the emotions come spiraling back. I thought it was alright. At home it was so easy but I have been here a total of two days and you are all I think about. I know why I walked away. I know it was a good thing but I didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be coming back. Maryland is so lonely without you. I miss you. I miss your text messages. I miss your home, your bed. I miss your arms around me. I miss your voice. I miss you. My Maryland became you. How do I create a new one? I find myself picking up my phone to text you all the time. I find myself wishing you would text me. Wishing you would try one more time. But maybe that is why I should move on. Your idea of asking for a second chance was a text message. Why should I regret saying no to that? I guess it really doesn’t matter if I should or shouldn’t because I do.

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Pretend

I’m in this body. Clearly in this body but somehow, I’m looking at it from the outside. I have this happiness inside me blooming like sunflowers, but it doesn’t feel like mine. It doesn’t feel like my happiness. I could venture to say that I feel someone about to pull the flower from my ground but I don’t even feel like it was mine to begin with. Who distributes the seeds? Did one accidentally get sprinkled onto my ground watered with my tears? Did I accidentally get someone else’s happiness? I can’t even say that I feel like I am leading separate lives anymore. Before, it felt like I was a different person in every different place I was. Now, I am grounded. I am stuck in this spot to watch my body wreak havoc on my world. Even when I say that I question it, because sometimes I actually think the chaos it creates is for the better and may help me wade through my dark waters. Of course, there is no stopping me from drowning at night. I walk straight into this depraved sea. I close my eyes and I can imagine that I am not surrounded by violent waters but wading through a field of sunflowers being persuaded by the winds. Replace the silent screaming with the sweet songs from the birds. Deny the ocean floor and believe I am lying comfortable in the soft grass and earth of the field. Refuse the water in my lungs to be anything other than fresh air. I can pretend. Pretend until my body convulses from asphyxiation and I am hurled back into reality. It happens over and over again and I will continue to pretend I am not succumbing to my darkness until I am dead in the ground. Whatever I keep coming back for will fade away and I will be left hollow and without a purpose. When that day comes I will accept happiness as my own as I lay abandoned in my grave.