A long while back, after one of our big fights, I told you that I was worried because I’ve started to feel apathetic whenever we have an argument, whenever you wanted to leave me. My heart was bruised, and I wanted to make sure you understood that for someone like me, someone who would fight thousands of battles for you, apathy means the end. I’ve come to realize that it isn’t anger or jealousy or disappointment that kills a relationship. It’s when you no longer care what happens that drives the knife and cuts the ties that bind beyond repair.
I’m not sure if this is how it feels to give up, only because giving up has never been an option for me, especially when it’s about us. All I know is that my days are spent consciously trying to avoid thoughts of you. In the past, I would’ve done everything in my power to save our relationship. I don’t feel that now. Mostly, I feel exhausted. Bone tired, trying to forget, move forward, make myself believe that I am not actually dying of pain.
But who knows, right? More often than I can count, I’ve found myself driving home from work, ugly-crying to breakup songs and Sam Smith. Every time I see your photos on my phone, I have the urge to throw it away, or hug it, which really doesn’t make any sense. I’ve woken up to dreams of you leaving, only to realize you’ve left.
Is this the end? I don’t really know. It may be the end for you, but I’ve always been such a masochist. I’d probably love you until I’m broken in a thousand pieces. Until then, I will live in this state of numbness. Nothing will wake me up from this.
And that’s okay.