I told you how badly you broke me. You were in everything I did. I couldn’t look at the colour blue without thinking of your eyes and the way that they held a steady gaze when you wanted to tell me you loved me. I told you how much it hurt to hear our song and how it hurt to sleep alone.
But that didn’t matter. What mattered to you was the way her hand felt in yours and the way that her lips felt instead of mine.
Every Saturday I go out with new friends and I enjoy myself. I try not to wish you were with me. I don’t listen to our song anymore. When I see the colour blue I redirect myself to the thought of the blue in my baby sister’s eyes, not yours. I sleep soundly at night and run my fingers through my dogs fur, feeling nothing but comfort. I don’t toss and turn anymore. I do these things to avoid the thought of you, because sometimes it’s too much. I try to think of what I have instead of what I lost.
A random Saturday night at 1:02am you called me to tell me you’ve been missing the way I kissed your nose and how I used to hold your hand in my sleep.
It’s Saturday and I’m busy. Please don’t call again.