Out of the million things I want to write about, what I end up writing about is you. Oh, not you specifically, but the “me” with you or something near that.

To sort of provide a background as to why I’m thinking of you now though you don’t deserve my remembrance, there are two basic reasons. The first relates to my 25th year on earth ending and the beckoning of my 26th year of existence. The past year was filled with needed summers, fireworks, booze and tears and it wouldn’t have been this memorable had it not been for the way you broke me, my heart and being. The second is purely because of Natasha Bedingfield’s song “Recover”. With the lyrics, I just really felt swayed to be honest; even more honest than I’ve always, always been when it came to you.

Fact is, when you left, I crumbled and I needed more air to fill my lungs every time. I saw you in different people, aspects of you that I’ve hated and liked. I looked for you in the most random places and anticipated crossing paths with you nonchalantly even if down deep, I was only twisted in shambles. It was a long, gory year, and whoever I was at that point, was pitiful. The “she’ that was “I” only stayed where she was left, while all else kept moving—moved, as fast as your feet when they walked out on me.

And now, I’m in a place extremely distant, even more distant than where your heart has gone, and things have changed even more. I heard you’re starting a family with someone. I heard you’ve been boasting about how happy you are. I heard too much but the great news is, I care so little. =)

I just feel unburdened, am greatly relieved, that we didn’t end up together. That whatever we had dissipated. That our story was just one chapter in my book. Though it’s only been a year or so, the scenes from then now appear remote, too far away and almost untrue. They’re all kind of mixed up now. I hardly know why I held on to you so tight. Why I loved you more than I did love me.

Thank you for seeing so little in me. Thank you, for cutting me loose. Thank you for letting me go. Thank you for breaking me to bits, to pieces, part by part. Thank you for all that we didn’t end up to be. ‘Cause really, I’m better off without you weighing me down. Perhaps it’s safe to say that I’ve recovered, from the horror that was you with me. =)

And out of the million things I want to write about, my recovering from you is worth some space in my blog and hard drive.

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