...for the first time since I met you.
When I woke up this morning, my first thought was simply that it was too early to get out of bed; I didn't wish that you were there beside me. I took a shower and got dressed without thinking about whether or not you liked the stuff I was putting on. I just glanced at the clock, grabbed my keys, and shut the door firmly behind me.
I didn’t see anyone who reminded me of you today. I didn’t hear anyone who had your laugh, didn’t see anyone wearing the same jeans you used to wear.
Thru the day, I answered phones, got coffee, checked emails, chatted with old friends, got stuff done, all without interruption.
I didn’t see anyone who reminded me of you today. I didn’t hear anyone who had your laugh, didn’t see anyone wearing the same jeans you used to wear.
Thru the day, I answered phones, got coffee, checked emails, chatted with old friends, got stuff done, all without interruption.
And when I got home I remembered that day when a friend asked me to go out, and we did. We had dinner, we laughed, we had a great time, and not once did either of us mention your name.
While I was remembering, I heard a song, the first song you ever dedicated me. But all that memories of you didn’t accompany it this time. I didn’t care that you weren’t with me, I just kept on my stuff.
As I’m lying here in bed, about to close my eyes and drift off to a place where I will not dream of you, this is when I realise I haven’t thought about you today. Some might say this realization ends my streak-of-not-thinking-of-you, that I’ve inadvertently let your ghost return to haunt me once again, but this is not true at all. See, in thinking about how I haven’t thought of you, I’m not really thinking about you at all... I’m finally thinking about me.
You’re just an idea now, a dark shadow, something I’m only considering as it relates to my own evolution. I’m recalling what I used to be like when you were all I ever thought about, when you seemed to own my thoughts morning, noon, and night. I’m thinking about the tear-stained pillows and empty wine bottles that decorated my room in the time I spent trying to get over you. I’m remembering how badly I longed to free myself from your spell, but secretly believed that day would never come.
And yet, that day is here, that day is today, the day I did not think of you, and I cannot help but smile, for I am finally free. Everyone said it would happen eventually, and I’m happy to report they were right (as they almost never are). I’ve moved on, as we all seem to do eventually. The best part is, I doubt I’ll be thinking of you tomorrow either or ever again.
While I was remembering, I heard a song, the first song you ever dedicated me. But all that memories of you didn’t accompany it this time. I didn’t care that you weren’t with me, I just kept on my stuff.
As I’m lying here in bed, about to close my eyes and drift off to a place where I will not dream of you, this is when I realise I haven’t thought about you today. Some might say this realization ends my streak-of-not-thinking-of-you, that I’ve inadvertently let your ghost return to haunt me once again, but this is not true at all. See, in thinking about how I haven’t thought of you, I’m not really thinking about you at all... I’m finally thinking about me.
You’re just an idea now, a dark shadow, something I’m only considering as it relates to my own evolution. I’m recalling what I used to be like when you were all I ever thought about, when you seemed to own my thoughts morning, noon, and night. I’m thinking about the tear-stained pillows and empty wine bottles that decorated my room in the time I spent trying to get over you. I’m remembering how badly I longed to free myself from your spell, but secretly believed that day would never come.
And yet, that day is here, that day is today, the day I did not think of you, and I cannot help but smile, for I am finally free. Everyone said it would happen eventually, and I’m happy to report they were right (as they almost never are). I’ve moved on, as we all seem to do eventually. The best part is, I doubt I’ll be thinking of you tomorrow either or ever again.
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