How to (almost) move on

Think about drinking on a weekday even though you barely even drink at the weekend. Wish you had that to numb the pain. Realise you don’t like the taste enough to drink it. Listen to your sad Taylor Swift playlist. See how long you last before the tears start falling. See how long your heart remains as stubborn as you in everyday life. See how long you can keep up the brave face you have spent years perfecting.

Break at “Last Kiss” every single time.

Watch yourself breakdown in the mirror. Wonder why this person who is looking right back at you is so unfamiliar. Watch the tears fall and the tear marks appear on your grey pyjama shirt. And promise yourself that this won’t happen again after tonight. And it’s because you had a long day. Or you’re extra emotional today. Or whatever. Anything over than him. It’s not about him. It can’t be.

And you promise yourself that tomorrow is a brand new day. So when it’s a new start you won’t feel like this. Because you can’t keep swallowing nostalgia and imagine it’s going to turn in to something good.

But tomorrow it’s their name you see on your phone screen asking if you want to go out tonight. And it’s your heart that skips a beat when you see it. So reply to him. And read through old messages. And read even older messages from screenshots. Of course, you saved them. Of course, you wanted to have some proof that he must have cared about you as more than “friends” at some point.

Go out and buy some candles. Try to pretend that you don’t remember him buying you candles last year. Avoid the scent he got you even though it’s your favourite. Wish you could buy new furniture that he hasn’t touched.

Call someone up and pretend you didn’t wish it was his voice saying “Hey” on the other end of the call. Convince yourself that it would be weird if you called him. Let your finger hover over the call button next to his name for what feels like an hour before you lock your phone.

Put your phone under your pillow and pretend it’s not there. Turn off your laptop and just lie there realising how hard it is to distract your thoughts when there isn’t a screen right in front of you.

Try and relax. Try and forget. Try and not overthink.

Try. Try. Try.

Because I guess that’s what this is. After you’ve given up the thoughts of what if’s and maybe’s and possibilities. This is what’s left. Trying to move on.

Trying. Trying. Trying.

Go out and dance the whole night away. Even if you are going out with him. As “friends”. Kiss someone else and pretend to not be wishing it was him. Feel slightly better that you did it in front of him. Try and not let yourself have a breakdown when you see him do the same. But keep on dancing. And thank god for the dark club so you can wipe tears away without people noticing. Push yourself to the edge. When you can’t feel your feet anymore and you’ve drank one too many. Let him help you in to a taxi.

Go home before you make any other bad decisions. Let him stare in to your eyes and wish you could just kiss him. Remind yourself that it will feel like you’re on fire if you kiss him again.

And fire kills.

But so does this pain.

So maybe you haven’t moved on as much as you thought you had. And maybe you weren’t ready to be his friend again. And maybe you should move your head away but your lips are getting closer to his. And you told yourself you weren’t going to do this again but he’s just so close.

You try to stop myself. But before you know it you’re on fire.

And all it does is burn. Burn. Burn.

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