Five of the third of eleven; Almost

When you’re almost sure you’ve moved on

You notice the little things that you actually never realized became a part of you, when he was a part of your life.

You no longer check the time when you know he should be having his usual break time from his busy work.

You stopped waking up at 6:50AM, wanting to catch him calling you at 7AM to wake you up and you pretended your yawns.

You no longer use your favorite words that meant something else than its definition.

You’ve forgotten listening to the playlist with the songs he gave you that you swore he made you listen to- to tell you something he couldn’t say out in the open.

You refuse hugs you got obsessed with that you just couldn’t stand not giving him every chance you got.

You gave away your favorite oversized polo that he whisper he couldn’t wait to unbutton every time.

You’ve forgotten the phrases you’ve memorized that made your movie-reference-conversations something you look forward to after a tiring day.

You told yourself too many times, and hearing the words felt like walking on shattered glass all over the floor

“I’m done”

You know it only meant one thing but you tried to find something else between every movement of his lips as it formed the words you never thought you’d hear

“I’m done”

When a word sounds so familiar, you ache to understand where and when you first heard it and you can’t take that you didn’t notice it enough to remember

“I’m done”

But finally, after days or weeks, or maybe months? See, I lost count

You try to explain it to your friends, trying to hold your tears in your hands, as if it can put it back inside you.

Finally,

Finally, it slides down your throat like mouth wash, better yet, vodka because that makes you feel so much better

and you stop being ashamed, or scared, or throwing up

because now, you can handle it

Because now, you’re almost done.

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