Bedtime Story

February 5, 2010
By Anonymous

Once upon a time. Once upon a time. Even the worst stories begin with a “once upon a time”. Once upon a time I was in love with you and you were a jerk. Even that gets a “once upon a time”.
Tell me why I’m sitting here alone at my computer in the dark thinking of you. Tell me how that’s fair. In what sick world does the dumper end up feeling horrible after, while the dumpee moves on with his life. You made me do it. You made me dump you. And when I was done and you had me out of your hair, you went and found her. That girl. And you loved her the way I loved you. Your heart ripped over her the way mine ripped over you. Except I was there to comfort you when she turned you down. I was always there. I was your friend.
Once upon a time you were the air that I breathed. It makes me sick to say it. And I was sick to live that way. To trust another human like that. No no, I am stronger than that. I’ve got two feet of my own, thanks.
Sometimes, when I’m not expecting it, I think of you and my breath catches. Still. In my head you are there again and you are you again, sweet and awkward and mine. I dare to wish I am weak again, to be clay in the palm of your hand. To be taken care of. To be blinded once more.
Now I have to remind myself to think of you in the morning. I don’t know why I do it – maybe I’m afraid not to. What I will become if I forget what it feels like to be loved. You deserve a thank you for making me feel like that. You also deserve a kick in the behind. Luckily or unluckily for you, you probably won’t get either.
Tell me what you think of late at night. When you’re lying in bed and you’re staring at the wall, waiting for it to disintegrate into sleep. After you get up in the morning are there dried tears on your pillow like there are on mine sometimes? Whose face pops up into your head first in the morning? I bet you a million dollars it’s not mine. Was it ever?
Once upon a time I wrote our initials in the snow together. B+P because why not. The snow melted and so did the letters, but that picture got stuck in my head. As a reminder. As a memorial.

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