(I never stopped.)


Imagine someone you know has sent you a text message at 1:00 a.m. that says, “Do you ever think of me?” 

How do you respond? 


I’ve spent so many afternoons curled

up in bed, trying to figure out why

I let you ruin all my favorite songs

while I listen to yours. I looked for you

in everyone that I met hoping it would

make me feel less vacant and now I see

how unfair that was to everyone who wasn’t

you, because there wasn’t going to be another

you, and when I figured that out I searched for

what you weren’t, convincing myself this is what

I had to do to get over you and I’ve spent what

feels like decades apologizing to the hearts

I’ve broken because that was unfair too. I looked

into eyes, laid upon a chest and heard a voice 3

octaves deeper than yours and it was still

no match. It always came back to you.

No touch, no smile, no amount of libations or

2am embraces washed you away and I think

I’ve come to accept the discomfort of a broken

heart knowing no one is going to be you and

I’ve grown to love my afternoons.

(I never stopped.)



By Lydia on page 62 of I Am Incomplete Without You.


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