I’ll rearrange my second thoughts, so they’re at the bottom of the pile. And I’ll walk into town with my chin up and my chest out. I’ll hide the mess that I am, like a creased shirt tucked into my pants. I’ll avoid the parts of town that lead me to you; the bread crumbs you left for me to find my way back. And I’ll go over the same ground I did months ago. Because after all, time was all I had left and until I could come to stop denying that, distance was my best option.
I’ll over look the potential little traces of you that stick out like post its left to remind me. I’ll calmly stuff the remnants of you left in my untouched room under my bed, as if they weren’t left there to provoke what I thought was safely stored memories from the corner of my mind. I suppose here, in this moment, nothing is safe. It’s why home, will never feel like home again.
And of course I’ve learned, this town is too damn small, and we always find each other. Our eyes will meet, and in the presence of you, I will gracefully fall apart, once more. I’ll search for the familiar, but there will be none left. Your face will be emotionless, and I’ll feel as if the blood has been drained from me. And to no surprise, you’ll look away. I can bet you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of me tattered. And I’m just that. I’ll find the strength to walk away, out of your weakness. You could never be strong when it came to my hurting. Not even when I needed you to be.
You’ll go on your way, as if I was just another face. And perhaps that is all I am. And I’ll grasp my memories a little tighter, white knuckle the strength I beg to keep me together, at least until I get home.
And when I lie down for the night, to settle into these restless sheets, I’ll dismantle the events built around this day; I’ll remember the mistakes I made yesterday, the mistakes I made today, the mistakes I’ve made with you. And I promise, I wont make them again.