I still love you.
Even though I know I probably should ignore that. Or even though I know that I probably should not. Every single day, you’re getting further and further away. Literally, and figuratively. Is there something star-crossed about this? I don’t know, Love. I just don’t know. All I know, there’s just this distance between us. Filled with nothingness. Just space.
You see, my brain doesn’t seem to get the memo. It keeps factoring you into future plans. It imagines some moment when timing works out and we’re in the same zip code and there’s no longer a reason to keep us apart. Trust me, I tell it to stop. But it just continues, month after month. It creeps in when I’m trying to do other things and makes it impossible to focus. It’s like you’re a song they overplay on the radio. You’re there. You’re always there. I can act like I’m tired of it. I might even do something like complain about it. Or sometimes, I make jokes– stupid jokes about it. But I always turn off the radio whenever it comes on.
But you’re still somewhere in the back of my mind. You’re still here rooting strong in my heart. You’re still that tune– that one tune that plays inside my head– that one tune that people keeps dancing to, slowly, gently, step by step. Just a glass or two of whiskey later, I’m humming it. That tune. You. I’m singing it in the shower and cursing myself for not being able to get rid of it.
I can’t get rid of you.
Even though I’ve tried. Even though I’ve heard this same damn tune one too many times and I know that it feels I should change the channel. The stupid, cringy lyrics keep coming back to me over and over again:
“Text me and I will text right back. Kiss me, and I’ll kiss you right back. Make a plan for us and I’ll clear all my schedule. The more girls I meet, the more I feel myself coming back to you, oh.”
Maybe my heart is stubborn or masochistic or downright stupid. Maybe, and I hate admitting this, I actually like the idea of being unhappy and letting my feelings for you fester is a symptom of that. Sometimes, happiness without you, feels like a trick more than anything. Without you, it feels pretty damn difficult when your brain is going against you, and deciding that it’s a better idea to instead come up with every possible way that things could go wrong. Without you, it feels like failure. It feels impossible. It feels exhausting, like an undertaking that is impossible to win.
Whatever the case, there’s one thing I know for sure:
I still love you.