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Yes, I Can

When I first looked at the reflection of my grimy, tear-streaked face in the mirror, I thought the tip of my nose was bleeding.
Doubting my first glance, I peered closer. I discovered it was just a piece of bloodred string. A snip of thread waiting to be flicked off only to hover in the slight breeze, drifting away from me and all of my troubles.
If only I could do the same.
The string’s scarlet hue unfortunately reminds me of hearts, and love, just like the color red always does.
I wish there was something to ease the pain.
The pain of knowing you, of understanding you, of loving you only to be tossed away like a used tissue. The hurt becomes worse when I realize time and time again that’s all I really was to you. I was just a shoulder to cry on, a tissue to wipe away your tears when they clouded your sweet, sweet vision. I was merely a tissue to throw away when I wasn’t needed anymore. I was nothing worth keeping around forever.
Metaphors and analogies can’t even begin to describe how you make me feel. Break-up songs and dreams of making up won’t change anything. This isn’t a feeling that can be put into words. It’s like trying to explain to another how colors feel to me. My love for you has been reduced to a broken dream, though an irrevocable one. I used to always dare to dream, but now those dreams have turned to dust. Simple particles of dust flit through my mind for eternity. It’s fuzz forever, never having anywhere to go, but simply going. The bits and pieces of my longing for you never leave; they just circle around back into my train of thought. Always going, but never leaving.
How I wish they would leave me in peace. When the time comes for memories to be resented, they are memories no longer. A transformation occurs. My memories are now tears. I weep them out through the ducts in my glassy, bloodshot eyes until I am drained of salt, hoping that the salt will rid myself of those things I want most to forget.
I am physically incapable of forgetting, as am I with regretting. I regret what experiences you and I didn’t get to share. I regret how my weak apologies couldn’t keep you there, by my side for life.
Getting over you is not an option I am willing to consider. I’ll never get over you completely. It is an impossible dream, an impractical wish.
I remember how someone once said if you love something, set it free. I could never kiss the past goodbye, but I guess it’s time to prove how much I really love you.
It’s time to let you go.
Can I do it?
It’s time to find out.
Can I go through with it?
The answer? It clutches my insides just like the heartache burdens my chest, coating my mouth in what I know, deep down, to be true.
The answer is on the tip of my tongue to say, but I can I bring myself to say it?
It’s mind over matter.
The answer is yes.



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