‘My Life Without Me’: Getting over you

You know, I still had designs on you. In fact, I still do. There’s some place inside me, having been too influenced by stories, that hopes and believes we’ll bump into each other in 10 years time, after living our separate lives for a while. We’ll go for a coffee, perhaps in that cafe on My Blueberry Nights. We’ll laugh. You’ll realise that I am the capable individual you always wanted me to be, and we’ll go back to your place. Or mine.


That’s the romantic in me. The sucker for a story.

Slave to Nostalgia – is my official title these days. I’m going through every memory we ever shared together and processing it, sometimes torturously. Sometimes on the bus when I’m listening to music. Turns out this is how ‘getting over it’ feels. I really wanted Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere to be about us. Some say that love is only playing out scenarios that appeal to you, like acting out a play requiring two actors. Joni Mitchell’s All I Want is all I have to say.

I’ve seen the life we could have had together, the life I opted out of. It looked wonderful. We looked good together. We did some amazing things, individually; together. I could have lived it if it weren’t for this question of ‘identity’. Niggling. You always knew who you were, whereas I – I have a grasp of myself but no command over myself.

There’s a whole playlist for you. It’s pretty much every song I’ve listened to since being with you. They’re all my favourite songs. And I listen to them in rebellion. I refuse to be overwhelmed and denied this ‘right'(?). I am trying to reclaim them, stick a flag in each one with my name on. However, there are some songs that defeat me, the ones which are painfully relevant.

I’m wearing your socks today and I still have a pair of your pants. I wanted you to have a pair of mine, but then, you always wore mine more frequently throughout the years. You were always cool with sharing, unlike I who was preoccupied with boundaries. You weren’t perfect, I suppose. But I loved you. I love(d) who you are, even if who we are means that we can’t be together.

I think you’re doing OK, and I’m doing OK, too. It drags, though. But even if I could let go like *snaps fingers*, I don’t want to. There were some moments there – during our final encounters – that were perfect. To me. The scent beneath your nose – like inhaling deeply the fragrance of fresh filter coffee still in the packet – above your lip, would still send me to my knees. It’s tricky, but; I’m beginning to accept we were … incompatible.

I will.


7 thoughts on “‘My Life Without Me’: Getting over you

  1. Pleased to meet you. I’m a fan of Joni Mitchell. I guess you know her facet as sketcher. Congratulations for your nice and clever header. Specially I like the way you depicted the steps on the ground. Have a nice day and thanks for visit my blog. I wait you soon.

      • I’m so happy to get your acknowledgment, cause I admire the sketch of your header and the words ‘it never really happened’. This could extract a lot of our imagination. Thanks again.

      • Hi, first I want to thank you your quickly response and also to explain you that the goal of my blog is to manifest how much diferent and unique that is every doodle and scribble from each person, like it happens on calligraphy. Everybody is genuine through his way.
        Except my work, almost all the authors of my site are famous masters, and sometimes some pieces appear only as a simple autographs with no depiction understandable, but they got the suitable belief on what they felt, with no fear for aftermath of their lines and strokes. About you, I hope soon take up again your pencil and it will be the first step of a new stage. Tell me something when you want. Bye.

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