it gets easier

Somehow it gets easier. The anxiety-filled ticks of checking my phone, hoping to see your name flashed on the screen, gone. The constant waking up at odd hours when the whole world is sound asleep. The deep gash that you’ve left me with, slowly closing.

I stopped looking for answers. I could finally visit the grave where we buried us and mourn for what happened without feeling resentful. I stopped holding on to strands of hope that we’ll rise from the ground. I laid my last wishes on the coffin that we nailed.

I walked away warily. A big part of me accepted and made peace with fate. A small part of me was hesitant. What if we weren’t dead? What if we made the mistake of burying us alive? I listened intently for any signs that we weren’t finished. My mind was too loud for my own liking. In the end, I didn’t hear anything.

I started packing up boxes of memories that you’ve left me with. This space feels emptier as the days pass by. When the moon would stop by and greet me each night, I couldn’t help but think of us. How we broke apart. Oh how I wished we’d shattered instead. That way, I could just sweep fragments of you and throw it all away at once. But we were bigger than that. We were magnificent.

If you could see me right now, you’d be laughing in your grave. I’m trying to piece back together pieces that I’m holding onto. That’s so unlike me. I run away from problems. You know that. I leave things as they are, as messy as they are. Afterall, it’s easier to buy a new vase than to glue the pieces back together. It’s easier to look at a new vase with admiration than to acknowledge the fact that the vase was broken in the first place.

As I struggle to glue back the pieces that you left me with, I was reminded of our best-laid plans. The drive-in theatre dates, visits to the zoo and the staying-ins that never happened. I picked up the pieces that were yours and I put it aside. I’m going to put them away in a special box that I’d open when I want to remember us. Like a time capsule. Because if we were as beautiful as I thought, I’d want to reminisce over and over again. Just not now.

I’m not sure if things got easier or I got stronger, maybe it’s both. The things that remind me of you no longer leave cuts all over me. Your face now a distant memory that I occasionally see in my dreams. All I know is that this tsunami of sadness has died down into waves of occasional blues.