21:13

Αύριο είναι Δεκέμβριος.

Δεν ξέρω πώς ακριβώς νιώθω για αυτό. Εννοώ, είμαι ενθουσιασμένη με το κλίμα που γίνεται λίγο πιο εύθυμο και τα συναφή αλλά ο Δεκέμβρης συμβολίζει και κάτι ακόμα... Το τέλος. Το τέλος ενός έτους που ενώ είχε απίστευτα άσχημα...ήταν όμορφο για εμένα...
Μου χάρισε πολλές ξεχωριστές εμπειρίες και ανθρώπους που μπήκαν στη ζωή μου με διάθεση να ριζώσουν εκεί... με απρόσμενα και περίεργα.
Και έτσι, καθώς οι λέξεις φεύγουν από το μυαλό μου και αποτυπώνονται εδώ, κατάλαβα.
Είμαι έτοιμη να υποδεχθώ έναν από τους πιο όμορφους μήνες παρέα με μερικά από τα πιο όμορφα άτομα.


Έλα, λοιπόν. Τι περιμένεις; 

18:13

It just happened. I woke up one day and that was that. I tossed my bedsheets in the washer and watched patiently as they swiveled about, slamming against the glass, beckoning to be freed. But your intoxicating scent no longer enthralled me, it was no longer my drug. I let the machine run its cycle, ran it through the dryer. Once, twice, three times. I could no longer find any trace of tear-stained spots from countless nights your bitter words had kept me awake. I tore down the pictures from my walls, tossed away every note you had ever written me, and it felt fucking good. I finished every damn poem I had ever started about you. I let the words seep onto paper until my pen ran out of ink and that is when I knew, I had written enough about you. I overflowed my bathtub with bubbles, immersed myself in them, and closed my eyes, engulfed by the silence that no longer seemed to deafen me. And each breath I took was crisp as it traveled through my lungs, each crack had been stitched, each wound had mended. My immune system deserves a lot of gratitude. It was strong enough to rid my body of your poison. I loved you. There are parts of me that still do. I will always love you, at least the person you were when you were mine. But seasons come and go, people change. You craved change, so much you became it. Maybe that’s when you stopped loving me, when you realized your limbs had outgrown their ability to sustain the weight of mine. But even though winter is knocking on my door, I’ve realized I am too warm to have your hands enveloping me. I no longer need you to help me breathe. I woke up one day and I just knew, I was no longer in love with you.

I promise, this is the very last time I will ever write about you.

I am even happy now.

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