subject line: the little things slipped

 

Georgia

Sometimes I wish that I stilled loved you. That when I see your pictures on Instagram, I cried because of all the little things I still carried for you. But I look at your face through my screen, I zoom in and out, and even though it still stings, you feel like a stranger to me. It feels like I never even knew you at all. That’s the scariest part, because it probably means that you’re forgetting me, too.
But I guess even though I don’t love you anymore, even though your voice feels like an old memory that I’m not completely sure actually happened or was just a dream I’m forgetting part of, I know that I loved you once. That you loved me once. And it was real.
I guess sometimes that’s all we can do—have faith in what once was and carry on. I feel completely changed after coming out of the end. I feel not like myself. Just as I looked at your pictures, I look into my mirror and smile the way I think I might smile if my favorite song came on the radio, raise an eyebrow the way I think I might raise an eyebrow if somebody said something completely stupid. But that girl you loved once is gone. Just as that boy I loved once is gone. But it was there.
And that’s the thing about it. Love, I mean. It still moves us even months after being gone for somebody. So even though I don’t love you anymore, I still think of you often. The ending still stings. Love morphed me and it morphed you, and I feel better for it. I hope you do, too.
Like I said, I think all we can do is carry on. Know that love existed for each of us once, and it will again. Even if it feels like a half-forgotten dream right now.