I don't know what to say to you.
You said you didn't want to lose me forever, that you didn't want silence. But it all started with silence, didn't it? And it seems we're stuck there now.
I don't really feel like reaching out when you seem to be doing fine, which is it's own weird paradox - it's not that I want to see you suffering. I don't. I think I just don't want to feel alone in that moment.
This all came with a weird sense of relief, I guess because I had been dreading the moment for so long, the final release of all that terrible anticipation.
Everything reminds me of you, so much. To the point where focusing on anything else is painfully difficult and I keep replaying it all in my head.
It's been two weeks already - and only two weeks. How is time speeding along but also moving so interminably slowly?
I think I'll wait for you to reach out, if you ever do.
Otherwise... I guess I know how little I matter now.