Dear Ex:
I know today is not a Sunday; it's Monday but it totally feels like a Sunday. Sundays are hard days for me because for some reason, it is on Sundays when I miss you the most. I am not sure if these overwhelming emotions are triggered particularly on Sundays because of being hungover from Saturday's debauchery and my brain chemicals are all out of whack, or simply because Sundays were our best days together.
I miss our lazy Sundays. We never got anything done other than stuff our faces with bad food but that was okay. We sat around watching TV or totally absorbed with our iPhones, not necessarily interacting with each other, but to know that you were right there next to me was an amazing feeling. I often thought about those moments when we would just chill and not say a word; and I asked myself if this was an issue, but I never really identified as such because words don't always have to be shared for a moment to be meaningful. Yes, our lazy sundays were special.
No matter how hard I try to steer away from getting caught up in reminiscing of us on Sundays; something always just pops out of no where and reminds me of you. It's weird. These reminders make me ache - it's an odd type of ache. It's an ache that has changed and evolved, and one that I certainly cannot say has started to fade allowing me to heal and move on. The ache has changed and it has become a more torturous type of ache.
When i think of you now, the memory of you is almost distant; like a dream that you had one night and then you remember bits and pieces of it throughout the day. I think of you and you seem so far away and I even have to ask myself if what we had was ever real? Or is it all a figment of my imagination? Crazy, I know it. But that's how it seems... and the hardest part about it, is realizing that now, the ache that lives in me now, hurts more than when you left.
Part of me; I think, fears facing what this ache will evolve into. It might just turn out to NOT be an emotional scar; but instead... some sort of permanent void left behind aching to be filled. I don't know. I simply can't explain it. It's not an ache that burns or sizzles; it's simply... an empty box, so quiet and so dark and small but huge at the same time, with a silence so powerful that it hurts. It has a loud quietness that echoes off from the walls of the almost empty house.
And so now it is that I don't like to think of you, because the thoughts of you open up this dark little box and I just don't want fall into it and possibly get trapped. God only knows that evil creatures lurks inside the deepest darker corners of this box. I just simply have to keep it sealed.
So, yes. Sundays are hard for me. Because Sundays were our days. For me, Sundays will forever be marked by the things we did. Things that I dearly miss. Good things and bad things that occupied our Sundays and our lives that are no longer there that I dearly miss. I miss them so much that the feeling starts to claw at the lock that holds the lid on that dark box I keep tightly closed. I've almost sort of forgotten all of the good things, and the bad things have become good things. Bad things that used to drive me absofuckinglutelly crazy, but that now I wish were still part of my life; for example, the sound of the french doors opening and closing when you went out to smoke; followed by the smell of the cigarette in your breath and you hands - who knew that one day I; who hates smokers, would say that i missed the smell of cigarette on you? Or who the hell misses seeing an ashtray packed to the rim with cigarette butts? And then some. LOL. I miss those Sundays during the spring and the summer where we would go sit on our bench and just sit there and look at OUR house. It was ours. OURS. (Oh shit, the black-box lid is starting to come loose... Need to reinforce it).
I've thought a lot about us. I want you back but I don't want you back. Why don't I want you back into my Sundays? Because leaving was probably the best thing you could have done for yourself. I am so so so proud of you. I am so happy to see how much you have grown and all the things; however small or big, that you have accomplished. And I look forward to seeing all that you'll achieve in life and I know it will be TONS! Although I miss you like crazy and want you back but don't want you back, I gives me great joy to see the great person you've become! I know that a little bit of the person that you are today was shaped by me; and the same goes for me: you shaped part of me.
Okay, I better wrap-up this entry and go tighten the lid on that damn black box before I accidentally get sucked in and eaten by whatever dark creature that lurks in it.
Yours truly,
the other lazy one on Sundays.
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