Maybe I do still think about you a hundred times a day. Maybe I do still think of you when I do certain things, like wear my hair that way you loved or listen to a song you showed me. Maybe I do still cry sometimes, pieces of my heart rolling down my cheeks as fast as rivers. Maybe I do still feel that last kiss on my lips some days. Maybe I do still say your name a little sweeter than his. Maybe I am still struggling to let go. But at the end of even my very worst days, days when I saw memories of you everywhere I went, only heard your name in every story someone told, I’m still a little less broken than when you left me. I can breathe. I can laugh. I can get out of bed, put on my makeup, and make it through the day without crying all of it off. I can feel the cracks you left healing, feel my mind pushing you out a little more every day. I know I will wake up one day, maybe in a month, maybe in 10 years, but one day I will wake up next to someone who loves me just as much as I love them. Someone who will recognize that when I love, I love with everything in me. I don’t believe in holding back. I will give him everything, and he’ll love the good, and he’ll love that I’m honest about the bad. He’ll spend his whole life loving that I talk so much, and that my laugh echoes off the walls. He’ll spend his whole life loving that I’m clingy because he knows that texting him every 20 minutes when we’re apart is my way of saying that he’s the most important person in my phone. He’ll spend his whole life loving my big eyes and watching the colors change. He’ll spend his whole life loving my arms around him, and my late night “I love you"s, and my random bursts of goofy that he’ll never understand but he’ll love that it keeps him on his toes. He’ll spend his whole life loving all the things you did, but he’ll love them enough to know that someone like me can’t be replaced, and he’ll know better than to let me feel unloved. He’ll spend his whole life loving all of me. And on that day that I wake up next to him, I won’t remember the boy who took my love for granted when I was 17. But trust me, you’ll remember me. A small piece of you will always remember me.
— I’m irreplaceable, you’re a dime a dozen