It's strange; it's only been a few weeks since we stopped everything. It's only been a few weeks since the cat was let out of the bag. It's only been a few weeks since everything went to hell. But it feels like it's been months since we even existed.
I'm at this weird point; all the memories, good and bad, are hazy. I can't really recall any specific moments from our time. Maybe I'm somehow pushing them out, but they don't come in as clear anymore. Not that I could even focus on a memory long enough to remember what happened. As soon as I try, it evades me.
Maybe that's for the best. I don't want to dwell on any of it anymore. No matter what anyone says, I'm still going to think that most of it was a lie. And I'm moving on. I'm completely and totally over it. No one believes me; it should take so much longer than this. But when it doesn't even feel like something existed in the first place, then it's fairly easy to get over something that never happened...right?
But I'm in a good spot right now. I'm doing things that are making me happy. I'm just content. Sure, I have my moments, but I think we all do. I have moments of heartbreak and confusion, but they are so much more infrequent. I'm proud of myself for picking up all of my pieces and putting myself back together. I'm happy that I'm in that better place.
Huh. Who knew it'd end up like this.
photo via (we heart it)