Every time I come close to saying hello, all I can remember is the aftertaste of our goodbye and I can’t seem to wash the feeling down.
There’s
a space that exists between in love and not, a sink or swim moment where you
know you’re on the brink of completely tumbling into love and you have to
decide whether or not you should take that leap. I’m not sure how much control
we really have over whether or not we jump, but somewhere at some point, we let
our walls down and accept and embrace how we feel, even if there’s no guarantee
the other person feels the same way. We know we’re in love and there’s no going
back.
And
to be honest, I don’t think I remember how to get to that place. I don’t think
I remember how to fall in love. I don’t remember how to get to the part where
you’re excited over someone else, the part where you’re looking forward to the
weekend because it means you might get to see them. I don’t remember how to get
butterflies when their name pops up on your phone. I don’t remember how to gush
to my friends about someone and I don’t remember what it’s like to not be able
to sleep because all you can think is someone else.
I
guess part of this is my fault. I have no dating apps on my phone and I’ve
stopped trying to talk to guys, I avoid eye contact with men on the street and
tend to politely cut small talk short when I’m waiting in line at the counter
or the fast food restaurant. Because all I can think is, What is the
point?
To
be clear, it’s not that I’m bitter. I’d like to think it could still happen for
me some day. I’m happy for my friends who have someone to spend occasion with
from Valentine Day to New Year’s Eve. But for right now, I just can’t let
anyone in. I push any and every chance away. I’ve completely lost my taste for
what ifs and could bes. I’m only interested in what is. I don’t really know how
I got here.