Notes on Heartbreak

Its the memories that do the most damage, even the smallest ones. Remembering friday nights, our nights, when all I wanted to do was lay next to you in bed. Remembering our vacations, cuddling, holding hands, laughing. God, I felt so in love with you on spring break. It was like I could've sworn to be with you for the rest of my life, right then and there. I would watch you from my lounge chair as you swam with the kids in the pool and I just smiled because I knew that I was in love with you and I knew how lucky that made me. Remembering the texts I could expect after practice, knowing that I would have someone to talk to before I went to bed. Our video chats- the ones you apparently have always hated- that I would look forward to the second I stepped into my room. Remembering parties and finding you in the crowd and just wanting to be held by you and to squeeze you and to kiss you. Remembering how it felt to look at you from across a hall way, a room, a field, and know that you are mine. Remembering your siblings, you weren't the only person I lost in our breakup, I loved them too. Remembering the way I would trace the outline of your jaw, I would kiss your cheeks, and your nose, and all over you. Remembering simple nights where we would watch the stars from your porch or your trampoline. Remembering tickle fights and stupid games we played where we would try to push each other off the bed or we would fake wrestle until I couldn't stop laughing. Remembering how comfortable I was around you. I miss being that comfortable with someone. I fucking lost my best friend, no one knows me as well as you do. I also remember the fights of course. I'm not trying to say that our relationship was perfect, I'm the last person to try to pretend that we had it all figured out- but we could have. We had all the essentials, all the elements of a perfect relationship that people would kill for. We were both so incredibly happy(maybe you would disagree), undoubtedly our best selves around each other. We loved each other so much, that was one thing I never doubted or questioned. We were best friends, we knew each other better than anyone else and loved each other more than anyone else. All of that, all of the emotions, were there. Sure, we fought over stupid things and we had a few breakdowns but those all could have been handled. You didn't even fucking try. You decided to throw away all the bad and you stapled the good onto there as well. You threw it all away Cam. I don't think i can ever forgive you for that, can never trust you. Someone truly in love could never be so heartless.

The mornings are the hardest. I always thought nights would be, the seemingly endless hours unfilled without our video chats and texting. I enjoy the freedom that the nights bring. I can do whatever I want, go to bed whenever I want, sit with my family, hangout with my friends. I go to bed at ease, my mind at peace. Waking up is a nightmare. I repeatedly have to recognize my current reality, it hits me like a train every morning. Maybe I dream of us, my mind tricking me into believing we are together again for those 8 peaceful hours. I wake up to suddenly realize I won't be getting a text from you, I won't be talking to you again today, I haven't kissed you in weeks, I don't exist to you, you don't love me anymore, I won't be with you this weekend, I won't be in your arms again, you aren't coming back... Thats a fucking lot to realize in an instant. It's tranquility to misery within seconds. These days, mental pep talks are needed, encouraging myself to seize the day and put a smile on my face. I often scroll through our old pictures, happy memories calming me down and clouding my sadness until my alarm goes off.

I'm better, much better. I know now that I can survive this and not having you. I can persevere and I can continue on to new things. I have also realized that the likely hood of you coming back to me is incredibly slim, that it will probably never happen, that I should not even expect it. I also know, however, that a small part of me still believes that you will. That you hold the same memories as I do, that you still love me as much as you did in those memories. But all that small hopeful part of me will ever do is fuck me over. The memories will fuck me over. Because each morning I will still wake up, and you still will not be mine.