I write about you because I have nothing else to write about.
I write about you because this is the last vestiges of our relationship; the only thing I’m preserving is the memory of you. I make no qualms about it, I loved you and I lost you, and I’m OK with that now. Surprisingly.

I keep searching for that little pang that tells me I still love you; some deep rooted leftover ache, but nop. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

And I’m left with a silence. No thumping heart. No bubbly, overwhelming feeling. No empty ache. Nothing. 
So I write about you because I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to move on now that I’ve actually moved on. 
I write about you because for the past two years, the one constant in my life has been pining for you. 

Isn’t that sad? 
But I logged onto facebook today, deliberately typed your name into the search bar and you know what, when your picture popped up, I clicked on it and BOOM! 
Nothing.

So much nothing that I’m actually giddy with excitement right now. 

Nobody really tells you what happens after you become whole again. 
There’s a whole new world of possibilities out there for me, and dammit! I’m excited. 

I’m jumping (metaphorically, of course) on the couch and bouncing in my seat and smiling like I just won the lottery, because I think I have. In the game of life, I’m moving onwards. Maybe that’s not winning yet, but hey, I’m one step closer. 
I’m on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend. 

So I write about you because you precipitated the darkness that brought me light. 

2013 passed in a blur: a whirlwind of loneliness that made me confront how much I didn’t know about myself. 
I was a mess in 2013, and maybe I’m still a mess now, but I recognize the problem now. I understand myself in ways that I refused to believe before. 
There is nothing more encouraging than realizing that you’re not OK, but that’s OK. As annoyingly cliched as that is. 
I’ve never been so excited to see what the rest of my life has in store for me before, and never so motivated to try. So thank you future Dr. W, for everything that has happened between us. 

For loving me and leaving me. For allowing me to be so wholly happy and sad. 

I write about you because for the past two years, you were the one thing that I felt anything about. 
But today is a new adventure, and I’m elated that your face no longer pulls at my heart. That I can look at you and just think… blissful nothings. There is no more shame or pain, no more alarming “what makes her better”, no more memories of the past. 

It’s funny, how things can change in an instant.
I’m thankful and glad and mildly confused and lost. This is new territory to me and I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. This was a truth I once knew, but had forgotten. 

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