At first, it was difficult to forget you. But little by little, I stopped thinking about you. I stopped seeing you. And almost stopped talking to you.
In my reality, you slipped away. The images and the memories are blurred.
But the best remains.
I'm not hurting anymore, neither when you're not here nor when I think of you. But these thoughts must stay brief and temporary.
I no longer linger on us. I don't stretch us beyond the little time we shared. I've learnt my lesson. I drew away and held on to it. I haven't forgotten you, but I don't feel you anymore.
I no longer think about our tenderness. I no longer mention it except in some rare texts.
Our time has gone.
The end was soft, once the shock had passed, because I didn't wait until it wasn't up to me to choose.
I thought of me first. I didn't take as many risks as last time and I did well.
I don't want a discussion that might bring us back to life after we explained ourselves.
I don't want to let my subdued feelings to rekindle and burn me.
I don't want to go back.
I don't want to think about it.
Neither do I want to tell you about how I am doing so that you don't get involved in my life again. It would hurt too much if you left, which you would probably do.
To protect myself, I moved on drawing away from you. And to go on this path, I don't want to talk about it, so that I don't feel anything or risk to fall back into your arms. To fall, once again.
**
Why on earth are you talking to me? Why are you choosing me?
Tell me, in your opinion, why are you attracted to me? What do you find attractive about me? What do you like about me? Do you like some of my qualities or just me? And why?
What if I accepted it instead of asking all these questions? Would my doubts disappear?
I just wonder: "why me?"
**
I said "yes" but it's not that simple to see you again, to feel your tenderness again.
To accept it is to take the risk to lose it again, to have to let it go reluctantly, while I'll still want you.
When you're gone, your tenderness will give rise to storms in me, to uncontrollable streams to tears and drama, until I find peace again and everything starts again.
I live for the emotions.
I live for the feelings.
I live to feel alive, however that may be, but I am tired.
These ups and downs draw my energy.
These "I don't know" soak my mind.
Sometimes, I'd like to know.
Follow an evidence.
Not discern nor foresee the consequences.
That's already how I live, except when I prefer the middle, the calm, the nothingness.
Nothing too intense.
Nothing that makes me cry.
Nothing that makes me think, imagine, hope.
Nothing that reminds me of your touch, your kisses.
Nothing that reminds me of you, or those I don't have anymore, those I don't have at all.
Nothing that diverts me from myself.
Nothing that lifts me too high or plunges me too low.
Nothing that has too much effect on me.
Nothing but peace.
Step by step, I move on drawing away from you.
One day, I'll be reconciled with she who lives in me, she who finds shelter in me, and then I'll find a place for you in me.
Meanwhile, I say "yes" without getting carried away. I send you images so as not to talk, so as not to think.