I laid on my bed, alone, and darkness surrounded me. A feeling of anxiety and fear suddenly overcame all of my senses. There was something I was forgetting…or perhaps, I had already forgotten.
Slowly, I reached out with the tips of my memory and touched you. I felt nothing for the first time in years, and the emptiness didn’t scare me. My eyes were wide open, and small lights of hope started to illuminate the long forgotten rooms within my mind.
The gash on my soul was still there, but something had changed. With more confidence, I explored the surprisingly cold surface and found it soothing. There was no more blood, no more pus…no more pain.
Time had created a delicate cover of white smoke that prevented me from looking at your sharp eyes and tight jaw. The sound of your steps when you left and the last words you spoke were no more than broken echos. My lips could no longer recall the warm touch of yours, they were cold and chapped. You were no longer there, and you weren’t anywhere in my life.
So much time had passed, and I finally understood that you were nothing more than a scar, a memory. I had finally healed and it was time to create something new in that space, just like new skin covers old scars.
It was time to move on.