The day you left me,
I didn’t go home.
I sat on my best friend’s couch
I could barely breathe
I was choking on my tears.
I talked and cried and said everything
that made me sad,
things that had long passed
but I was crying anyways.
I begged everyone not to ask,
because I couldn’t bear to explain it again
The day after you left me,
I woke up
surprised that I had been able to sleep.
I had gone home early in the morning,
no one needed to ask and I didn’t have to explain, but I cried anyways.
I made my bed later that day
to give my hands work to do.
I don’t remember much of the day after you left me,
but that moment when I stood in my room
and I didn’t know what to do with my hands, with myself anymore.
The next day you asked how I was
and I wasn’t angry for that stupid question
I wasn’t feeling anything anymore
So there was no answer to it
But I replied anyways.
I was honest.
Three days after you left me,
I got up and answered the unread text messages on my phone.
I agreed to go out with my friends on the weekend and played through all the games on my phone but I ended up thinking about you anyways.
Four days after you left me,
I wasn’t happy, but I decided that I wanted to be.
So I went out with friends, left the country, climbed a mountain alone and walked through clouds and rain.
I slept in bed sheets that smelt like yours and stood through it.
And somewhere in a different country,
I stood on this lonely road and
saw this wide meadow and a flock of geese raising into the air and
I forgave myself.
I forgave you.
I still have the picture of the mountains
and the road where I stood.
It is a beautiful picture,
but a painful one.
So I will keep it to remind myself
that I survived
and that I might have lost you,
but the battle for my happiness
is my victory.
I won by finding myself.
— Surviving the breakup, Nana Kitano