I’ll Think Of You Until It Stops Hurting

I’m sorry, you were not the right person.

You were not my inspiration. My eternity and mine always.

You were not the one who brought out the best in me, from the deepest, darkest corners of my soul. You were not the one who could take my hand to see the stars look forward to the night.

It was simply not you… But maybe that’s how you wanted it.

I fall asleep, visualizing a beautiful sky full of stars. I fly from my bed, past you and me, and past the memories.

Tomorrow is another day.

This bed is so empty. So big. So spacious. And the worst part is, it’s always been that way, whether you were with me or not.

I do my best to get out of bed, as if not to see the empty space next to me like I do now.

The smell of coffee comes from the kitchen. It smells delicious, and it seems to comfort me.

I try to discern the memories. I do not remember them clearly. Thousands of images fly through my mind: a kiss on the neck. Ruset. I’m starting to remember.

You were not the one who said I was beautiful every morning or made me laugh in the middle of a yawn.

You were not the one who trusted me. Who said it would be forever. Who said you were there for me. You were not the one who could light up my world for a thousand days just by blossoming into a smile.

But I did not ask you for these things either.

You were never my bet. My challenge. My struggle.

Maybe I was the one who did not want to fight for us…

And I’m sorry.

I took sugar in my coffee for some reason. I usually like it very much. Maybe I need some kind of compromise today, or some reward. Memories can really leave one out in the cold. I lean back and wait for my coffee to cool.

I think and close my eyes. I can never remember the heat. Just the cold.

You were the one who made me and the bed tremble every night. No matter the color of the bags under our eyes or how tired we were.

You were not the one who accompanied me out when it started to rain so I could enjoy nature and be a part of the amazing scents and emotions.

Hate me. Insult me. That would be the most emotional thing that has come from you during all this time. Do something volcanically emotional. Do something to shake your cold heart. The cold heart that froze this marriage.

And so it became two of us, instead of one. Maybe it was our mistake. Now is not the time to look back and ask ourselves who is to blame. And I’m sure it was me. So I’m sorry, but you were not the right person.

I’m having a sip of coffee. It’s delicious, not so bitter. I taste it and remember… the taste of nothing. The taste of disillusionment, disappointment and routine.

A whirlwind of noise. People, alcohol. More people and more alcohol. Until our bodies reach their limits and we fall asleep without thinking. Without thinking about you and me, or us.

In fact, hangovers with company are not as big hangovers. Maybe that’s why we did it for as long as we did. Who knows?

I do not have much coffee left, maybe a big sip or two small ones. And that’s what it’s all about in the end: choice… And I do not know what to do with my coffee. I’ve never done that.

Maybe I should throw the cup on the floor and let it go in a thousand pieces. To later pick up the shards and dry up the coffee.

Because you were not the one who made me happy or made me daydream. You were not my favorite place to be.

You were not my reason for going home and disappearing from the world for hours on end.

I’m sorry. Choosing has never been my thing. I’m having another cup of coffee tomorrow. And when I do, I will think of you, until it no longer hurts.

You can save the memories from now on, because they do not fit in my heart anymore. Deep down we always knew. I was never me, and you were never you.