You’re going to forget me. It won’t be fast or sudden or something where I’m clear one day and an empty space the next. But, slowly, you’ll forget the sound of my voice, and then you won’t be able to picture the shape of my face, and eventually you’ll be looking at the sky right before the clouds start pouring rain, and you won’t be able to quite place the familiarity of that color, but it will be the same gray-blue that is my eyes.
You’ll no longer know that, though. I’ll just be an outline, a blurry body of disconnected memories that occasionally fits into your past. And that’s okay. Some people aren’t meant to be remembered. I’m just one of those people.
H.L. // excerpt from a book I’ll never write #40
So in the process of moving on, we learn to hate the person we once loved.
Because it’s easier to hate them, than it is to deal with the fact that you still love them. It’s easier to keep this cold attitude against them, than it is to realize they’re never coming back, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about that.
the thought of breaking up with you scares me. the thought of another girl kissing you scares me. the thought of you holding someone else’s hand scares me. the thought of you sharing your bed with her scares me. the thought of you ranting to her scares me. the thought that you’ll replace me so easily scares me.