Because I Know Writing About You is Good for Me

CAREFUL 1

Yeah, you know I’m talking about you, ex-boyfriend.

I think that above picture sums me up pretty well right now, though.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. So much so that I’ve started dreaming about you.

Not in a I miss you type of way…hell no. In the words of T-Swift,

Damn straight. Not in a million years.

However, just knowing you are back on campus. I don’t know. I haven’t even seen you and yet I feel like the knowledge that you are here, that I could run into you any day now, has something inside me pining for a better understanding of my younger self. Of our relationship and how we managed it for so long. The very nature of our relationship. How we functioned together. Who I was. Who you were.

Everything I was too scared to think about last year. Everything I chose to avoid thinking about last semester when you were gone.

First I was anxious to see you. After I wrote that blog post a few days ago, though, I felt different. I felt that writing helped me get to a new stage of this healing process. It helped me in getting one step closer to permanently closing the door on my past with you as I look towards the future. After I wrote that blog post, I actually was looking forward to seeing you. I felt a little excited. I think I wanted to show you how much stronger I am. Instead of shying away from you like I did before, I wanted to proudly show my face to you. I am proud of the person I’ve become. I do not want to live in the shadow of this relationship. That would not be a life at all.

I want to show you that I’m moving on. 

I don’t know why I have this desire. Maybe because I saw the hurt in your eyes last spring at the Midnight Breakfast; when my friend Kelsey and I were talking and laughing, I saw the grimace on your face when I passed you. Because I saw the way you looked across the bar at Quarter Taps last month. I’ve seen that from you before…that look of quiet uncertainty, a look that isn’t sadness, but close to it; we may have broken up a year and a half ago, but I can still read you like a book.

Maybe I want you to know I’m doing okay in the hopes that knowing that will help you move on.

Of course, maybe that’s an incredibly selfish outlook and there’s more to it than that.

What do I know.

I just know that you’re not okay. At least not in respect to our relationship. I can feel it.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Well, I do, actually. Because I could never say any of this to your face. Because writing is how I cope with my problems. Because I keep thinking about you and I know that if I really want to close the door on you and our relationship together, I need to do everything in my power to get all this off my chest. So I can stop thinking about you. So I can move on.

I thought I was done with you and now I know I’m not quite there.

I desperately want to understand myself.

I am strong. I am not the girl you once knew. I am moving on.

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