Sometimes I get a flashback of our past and I am gripped with a fear that I can’t live without you. They find me at the most impossible moments. When I am solving a math problem beside my student, in the midst of a test, even midsentence during a conversation with someone. And then my heart turns cold at the thought of never having you cry with me again.
I think of leaning in (sober) with another man, our breaths mingling as his lips brush against mine and I baulk at the imagery.
The gaps between my fingers that I am so certain can be filled by no other hand…are still empty. Sometimes, I clasp my own hands together just to feel the webs fit in a perfect interlock. Sometimes, I turn so swiftly at the whiff of Ralph Lauren because it brings me back to our first December that I think you have left me forever scarred.
But sometimes, I am euphoric. My heart bursts with the liberation I had so courageously seized from you, resolutely in a fit of clarity. I turn my back on you, your selfishness and inadequacies, and I am greeted by the brightness of my impending journey. I can only look forward and leave the past behind. Sometimes, I ache for it. The certainty and optimism and I want to scream to you: “Get out of my life!”
I don’t want to wake up to the sound of your gentle rapping on my door at odd hours. Especially because I am some kind of medicine for your loneliness. Because you are not my cure.