How I Learned to Love Again

June 5, 2017
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1. I deleted all of the playlists that she made for me. I can recite their catchy titles in chronological order and have them feel like poetry on my tongue but I try not to do it anymore. maybe it was no coincidence she added a breakup melody to each compilation. talk about foreshadowing. I've always loved girls with a knack for the proper use of literary elements.
2. I let myself think about her. not in the way that consumed me completely and left nothing behind but the remnants of a girl in the dust, but in the way that made the wounds hurt just a little bit less. it was a learned behavior to keep myself breathing. after all, it gets a little tiring always having to chase away the past like unwanted ants at a picnic.
3. I rearranged my room. every morning that I opened my eyes I was met with the purple walls that she told me were her favorite color and I finally needed something a little less her and a lot more me. I gave the big fuzzy rug to my sister down the hall, she'd been asking for it for awhile now anyway. I took down every picture of us one at a time and sealed them into envelopes that I hid in my closet; they'll be important again someday. maybe if her ghost stops by she won't recognize where she first began to haunt me.
4. I taught myself to stop mentioning her all the time, I mean no one wants to hear about what you and your girlfriend used to do together. each reference to one of her favorite things became a moment of silence as I held my tongue. she lies in an unmarked grave in my heart and I regret to inform the passersby that I lay fresh flowers out for her every night.
4.5. I have fallen asleep in flower gardens at midnight during weak attempts to create a bouquet that describes our love story just right. at least I am no longer spending my nights in cemeteries with gravestones as my pillows, there is more than one way to be haunted.
5. I never learned how to love again because I never stopped knowing how to love. I just had to remember that I am still a person without her, sometimes, on the days that I feel like I can be a person without her. the trick was to realize that she didn't take part of me with her but just left pieces of herself behind in the places I'd least expect them. she meant something but everything means something and that's okay. you get used to it eventually.





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