When my ex and I broke up, my roommate suggested to me to line my wall with post its counting backwards from 31. A month. A whole month. The day he picked up his stuff from my place, I lined my wall. And tried to write. For the most part I did. I wanted to witness change, I wanted to make time tangible. So, here you go. My 31. 31 days. 31— I waited to take it down because I couldn't face the idea of you not being around. Do you think of me as often as I do you? The mere thought of you chokes me up. The words "I miss you" don't do the feeling justice. 30— Today I went out and pretended like I didn't care. Your name still spills off my tongue because every story relates back to you. I'm drunk, I'm high, and I miss your hand crawling up my shirt and holding on to my breast when we slept 29— I took it down and stared at it. My eyes so swollen they can barely open. What if I can't let go of you? Here I am, Saturday night, openly sobbing for more than two hours. Where are you? Over me. I hate that I look for your car and peer down your street every time I pass. I hate that when I turn the corner to get to my house I imagine you sitting on the doorsteps. 28— Peeled it off the wall and took it to work with me, attached to the last book I forgot to take off my shelf. Should I give it back to you? My head is spinning with wine and weed and I want to look at other boys but only to distract me 27— It's not that I didn't want to write, it's that I didn't know how to. The room, head, eyes. Spinning. I keep drowning myself, but I don't mind. I feel like my heart could sing but a pillow lays where you should rest 26— I wish I knew anything, anything at all. Every morning I give myself a pep talk to remove myself from my bed. It's eleven and I still haven't left. I wish I had time to spend the day with you, and then I'd know what I feel. But easy isn't always right 25 & 24 — Yesterday my brain was so full I couldn't do this. Today I'm so angry I can't think straight. Or rather, maybe I'm finally thinking clearly. Right now I feel so justified, acknowledging I'm not the one who messed up here. I hope your friends can remind you that you did a bad thing 23 — For a long time today I couldn't stop crying. I know I am not blameless, I know I was not perfect, I know I could have been better. But at the end of the day, I didn't. That will always be the difference 22 — I'm imaging the feeling of another's lips thinking if their hands will hit me on the same points. Do they know how their breath on my back hits me? Do they wanna know the rest of my secrets? I want the taste of someone new but pushing myself to get there is so much 21 — Sometimes I close my eyes and see my fists swinging. I will never forgive myself for getting there, I will never forget how you pushed me. 20 — I took it down from a new frame. I feel so god damn good about that. I can't stop picturing running into you, what I would do what I would say how it would feel. I want your lips along my collarbone one last time. I can't commit to the feeling of another's 19 & 18 — If you were to touch me, would it feel like coming home? That holy fuck I missed you sex? Today I cried so organically, so effortlessly speaking about you. That made me feel so god damn small. 17, 16, 15 & 14 — Sometimes I don't even think about the days, the weight is gone. I cried walking home from the subway last night because I once again remembered how stupid I feel. 13 — I've started singing in the shower again, instead of curling up in a ball on the floor. I hope you can hear me. I hope you can see me skip down the street. I hope you feel how I'm changing. 12 — It makes sense why I kept looking backward, looking for first impressions. Honesty. Anything, really, that took me back to a time where I felt ok. 11 — One day I'd love to not check the stove at 2:14 in the morning to see if it was accidentally left on. Or run back to my house from the bus stop to make sure my straightener is unplugged. Today I said something honest I've been thinking and my stomach is sick with butterflies, but in a good way 10 — It's not that, I won't call it that, but if it was that, I'd be okay with that, so long as that went well. I'm nervous, can you tell? I went through all my pictures and my stomach didn't flip at the sight of what we used to be, I'll consider that a win. 9, 8 & 7 — We're really rounding down now, aren't we? I went on a date and kissed a really nice guy and I danced to eighties music at a cheesy dive bar and it's officially my time. This is it. I'm getting over you. 6, 5 & 4 — So far all I've done today is nurse my Valentine's Day hangover in bed and watched terrible movies. My coworker saw you yesterday and you told her we were still together. I had a dream you went back to your ex and that my other coworker got fired. I'm writing too much and I feel very nervous but maybe that's a good thing. I like who I am. 3 & 2 — I like to think of myself stronger than I actually am. I expect the absolute most. As if I have complete control. But.. But I've lost my appetite again, and I feel so lost in everything I do. I'm sure your hair is so long by now. 1 — Just like the beginning, I'm avoiding the conclusion. I still can't think of what you did without feeling fucking sick. I think I miss you? I think I miss you. A dull sadness not so prevalent, it doesn't force itself to the forefront of feelings. For the first time in my life, I want to be alone. And I really, really mean it.
annaxmalina
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
discoholicmusic
dededos
kaledo-art
snowghoul
prguitarman
origamiaround
