I am getting ready to forget you. It's not something that I am eager about, but I can already feel the barricades coming up, enveloping my heart in the same wall I have put up countless of times before.
I'll hijack my brain for some made up incentives, just so I'll find the motivation to start. Like a diet. Like a purging. I'd like be at that point in time when your name doesn't make things go fast and slow for me. When it no longer sound like a promise.
I'll eventually stop smiling at an idea of a home, of Saturday morning routines, of a future with you in it. My heart will break, but it will finally stop aching for the family we'll never have.
I'll have to deal with the crippling self-doubt. The multiple attempts at negotiation for a doomed affair. I'll have to relent and admit defeat, and accept that despite what I thought were my best efforts, this was never meant to last.
Pretty soon, I'll get back to finding things as meaningless as they should be. Shoelaces, snacks, kisses, and places; these will no longer have value. This will hurt, but it won't kill me. I'll be empty, but that would mean I am also pain free.
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