Fantasy

You’ve wrapped yourself around my mind. I look back at the things I wrote, confidence in letting you go because, I knew, I knew, that I couldn’t keep moving forward. So you walked me to my car, bags in our hands, and my pillow that held your head for weeks. My tears and heaving breaths, my uncertainty. That oh shit moment, did I fuck up? “No,” you said, “You did nothing wrong.”

So is this what right feels like?

I think about you when I close my eyes in a cold bed, with ice feet. I think about you rolling over and holding onto me. Your oven of a body warming my extremities. Breathing on my neck. How I hated that, how I miss that now.

Last night I remembered that phone call in Thailand. We were so fresh. My anxiety was so high. I couldn’t believe that I traveled halfway across the world for a week. You told me if you were me you would extend it, even though a part of you wanted me back sooner. How you missed me then, I wonder if you miss me now.

It’s strange, I thought time passing makes things easier. But it seems that the further I get from our end, the more pain I feel. Time passes, and I remember the man that I met. That man was it for me, but to this day I don’t know where he went. You stole the best part of yourself and hid him from the world.

That part of yourself that was invested, excited, curious. The part of you, you say you always lose. How I sensed it disappear, and how I long for it now.

I think a part of me thought it would come out of hiding in its longing for me. But it never showed up. Maybe I pulled away faster than it could run. Oh the predictability. This moment is not new, just slightly different.

This is how I left all of them feeling. To fall for someone who wasn’t ready to show up.

So I sit here, wallowing in fantasy. The person I left, no longer the person I miss in my mind. I wish I could just forget you. I wish I could forget that part of you that disappeared.