The sadness I feel over you often sweeps me away in my silence. It hits me when I’m just still enough to think, but active enough to fidget. It didn't crush me at first. It doesn’t rush to make its presence felt, but trust me, I feel it. I feel it when I’m listening to songs from the album your favorite song is on. It hits me when I see your favorite colors. It hits me when I pick up my phone before I’m about to shower. The weight is never heavy at first. It slowly roots itself into my stomach. Then it finds its way into my chest, and with a deep breath, it's in my lungs. Nothing my inhaler could dream of fixing. Nothing I could dream of fighting. Soon after, my entire body is heavy. I don’t try to wrestle with it anymore. The resistance never helps. The sadness feels like heat in the back of my eyes. It comes out as tears that I can never fully wipe because they keep pouring. I believe they think they’re destined to make puddles in my sheets and pillows. They always find their way into the craters. The sadness feels like closeness and distance. It feels like the words I know I should say but can’t. It feels like the words that I begin to type, but soon delete because I know you want nothing to do with me. In those moments, I feel the heat travel through my body and I feel the weight plant into my chest. I don’t believe that weight will ever go away when I think about you. I think when the weight finally goes away, it will be the day I've forgotten about you. I couldn’t imagine forgetting you exist. Forgetting you exist is like forgetting a version of my happiness exists. I could never forget him, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did. I know my sadness over you is bigger than you. It was never only about you. I know that my body knows that. I know that’s why when we stopped talking, I was told I looked dead in the eyes. I lost proof that I was lovable through anything. A void opened. It was ravenous, and scary, but inevitable. You’re inevitable.
The sadness that creeps into my bed and conveniently places itself under my covers will never only be about you; it’ll always be about mourning the loss of everything I thought I’d have, everything I watched slip through my fingers, and everything I unintentionally ruined. I lost my best friend. I watched my reflection walk away from the mirror, and now I see nothing at all. The only thing I’m left to do is mourn its absence and pray I’ll see myself again. I pray that I’ll see myself again.
The sadness that creeps into my bed and conveniently places itself under my covers will never only be about you; it’ll always be about mourning the loss of everything I thought I’d have, everything I watched slip through my fingers, and everything I unintentionally ruined. I lost my best friend. I watched my reflection walk away from the mirror, and now I see nothing at all. The only thing I’m left to do is mourn its absence and pray I’ll see myself again. I pray that I’ll see myself again.
