Soon, I will get your memory out of my head.

Soon, I will forget all the reasons you put a smile on my face. Soon, I’ll forget the lyrics to the songs you wrote for me. 

Soon, I will forget all the lies you told. Soon, I will forget how it looked when you were with her. 

It is all a faint memory—all the “I love you’s,” the great hugs, and the “I miss you’s.” 

If you really miss me, where are you now? Why did you leave? Why did you choose someone so easily over our love?

Why was it so easy for you to hold her over me?

Questions, questions, questions. 

I asked myself so many questions until

one

single

moment

when I realized the truth; I opened my eyes and saw it wasn’t me, it was you. 

You. 

You forgot how you told me we were going to marry. 

You forgot how we came up with our children’s names. 

You forgot how badly you wanted to spend your life with me.

You forgot how you told me you could only love me.

You forgot when you looked me in my eyes and promised it was only me.

What happened? Why did it happen? Did you hit your head? 

Maybe you didn’t forget. Maybe it was just never there to begin with.

But I get it; you told me it’s hard for you to love.

You told me about your fear of love. It’s real, but I battled anyway.

I fought so hard; I tried to save what was already dead. Until I grasped this concept:

It’s only me. 

Only me fighting. 

Only me stressing.

I fought and got hurt so much, just for you, until I couldn’t take the pain anymore. 

So I let go, realizing that what I felt was not mutual. 

Soon, I’ll forget why I fought so hard, why I hurt so bad, and maybe, soon, you’ll realize you were not what I needed. 

I was what you needed.