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You: A Goodbye Story

A Weight Lifted

By Vanessa MariePublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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Do you remember that day?

That night?

We sat at the foot of my bed, each on our own sides.

You cried, "I love you. You're my best friend," through your tears.

I knew that night brushing my teeth.

It was over.

You called me by my name. Not sweetie.

My name. The name you said a handful of times in two years.

The way you said it. My heart stopped, my blood went cold.

I walked the eight feet from my bathroom to my bedroom. In my apartment. My place.

Barely breathing. I knew.

Saying my name was like hearing the squealing of tires; walking to my bedroom was the pause, and looking at you was the BANG!

I got under the covers, where you already were. Tears started to stream down my face. You sat up and said you were sorry. Nothing else needed to be said. It was over. You knew it. I knew it.

Right in that moment, I got up and packed your bag. I pulled your clothes out of the draw YOU asked for. YOU told me to leave them. YOU wanted to get them another day.

I grabbed your jersey out of my closet. I grabbed YOUR snacks out of the cupboards.

You sat there frozen. Unable to speak. Unable to move. Like you were looking at my ghost or having an out of body experience.

I zipped your bag shut.

I cried. I still remember; I wanted to lay with you. Just one more night. I even told you, just one more night.

I took a breath. It was time. I grabbed your bag. You finally stood up.

Finally did something. You looked at me like you were trying to take in my features. My eyes, my hair.

I handed you your bag. YOU tried to hug me. Tried to console me. I didn't step into those arms, and I didn't accept your condolence.

You finally walked out the door. That one you showed up smiling at so many times before.

YOU started to turn around to look at me. YOU wanted one more look. One last memory. One last moment of me.

I closed the door on you. I didn't slam it. I just closed it.

I closed the door on you.

I, closed the door on you.

Things were dark for a while. Painful. Somewhere I knew; I didn't need you. I didn't want you either. Not to have and not to hold. I knew early on.

I felt so vulnerable. So, exposed. As if the outside world could see my pain. See right through the cracks of my being. They knew. I was convinced they knew.

For the first time in my life, I was upset for me. Cried for me.

Early 20s. Second year of college. Thinking about me. Working for me. Paying for me. Living for me. I learnt how to stand on my own feet.

Finally, for the first time in my young life things were about me.

Me for Me.

I was scared. But, I was free.

Drunkenly sitting on patio at my favorite bar with my friends. The table covered with empty bottles and stubbed out cigarettes. Laughter and smoked filled the air.

I laughed. I laughed through the haze. I laughed like it was the first time my lungs filled with air. I laughed like I had just surfaced. I laughed, and it felt like coming up from underwater and feeling the sun kiss my face.

I laughed!

Under those stars that night, I felt the warmth of light kiss my face. I had surfaced. A weight lifted. A recognition of transformation.

I kept pushing forward. I put on my armor. I faced the world. I started to fill in my cracks.

Funny thing, us beings — Built to survive.

It took years. I trudged forward.

I was becoming a warrior, and this was merrily training along with all the things before.

I was becoming a fighter.

A friend.

A lover.

I learnt my pain, my sorrow, my loneliness. I held on to them. Studied them. Put them in a choke hold. Became friends with them. They were my frienemies. The moment I understood them — I let me go.

I no longer missed you for selfish reasons. I no longer hated you for selfish reasons. I no longer needed you for any reason.

I learnt how to love.

To love me.

I was worth more to me. I became a warrior. A fighter. Strength and beauty.

The years have past. I haven't thought of you in a while. I no longer miss you. No longer care. I haven't for a while but I wish you the best.

I found my best friend. He was around when I knew you. He's been there for me more than he knows.

I opened my door to him.

I've shown him the warrior I am.

The woman I am. The person I am. The lover I am. The friend I am. The weaknesses I am. The strength I am. The beauty I am.

He has shown me too.

I opened my door to him; the night he literally opened his door for me.

Do you remember that night? That night you sat on the foot of my bed. Cried and told me you "loved me." I packed your bag and closed the door on you.

I, closed the door on you.

breakups
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