This is not about you.
I do not think about your smile, or the way you say my name, or how you sing the same song on repeat but mess up that one line each and every time.
You laugh with a soft chuckle that’s deep but sweet at the same time, and I can’t help feeling like I might just melt there and then. When I’m by your side, the world seems calmer, more manageable. I feel like I’m flying, no weight on my shoulders to pull me down.
You always say the right thing at the right time and know just what I want without me ever telling you. You make me think that there’s meaning to life, and that meaning is you. But this is not about you.
This is not about how I always make the worst jokes but you laugh at them anyway, or how you told me that my dorkiness was kinda cute. This is not about how we used to run under the sunset, throwing caution to the wind, simply enjoying each other’s company. This is not about any of our moments.
Because you’re gone. And I don’t know what to do, or how to act, or what to say. I’m afraid that if my mind lingers on the thought of you for even one second, that it’s one second too long, and I’ll never be able to get over not having you anymore. How can I, when my heartbeat speeds up whenever I smell a scent similar to yours; when I get flooded with a pool of memories the moment I step foot into a memorable place?
This isn’t about you, because you’re not here anymore. You can’t be here and reside in my heart without paying rent. All I take are losses.
All I can do is erase you from my life, erase everything that was ours, everything that made me feel something inside. Maybe if I tell myself nothing’s about you anymore, I’ll be able to believe it.
“This is not about you.”