Wake Up To Color

I'm a student at Brigham Young University. I love language, literature, theatre, music, art, and people. I am trying to figure a few things out right now, about friendship, love, and life.

I try to give proper credit to everyone; however, if you spot something I've missed, PLEASE let me know. Also, please do not steal MY work.


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One day, you will wake up, and you will know.

You do not love him anymore. Not in that way, at least. You may love the memories and you may love the experience, but you do not love him.

You will look at photos and see not just the things you loved, but the things you hated as well. You will see the fat belly and the unkempt hair. You will see the stupid drunk smile. You will not find it endearing. You will be repulsed.

You will read old letters and messages and you will cringe at your own vulnerability. You will read his one-word responses and his inability to recall simple facts about you, and you will not miss his absent-mindedness.

When you think of calling him again, you will shudder. You will imagine the long, awkward silences and they will not strike you as romantic or comfortable. They will just bum you out.

He is not a part of the present and he is definitely not a part of the future. He is a figment of the past.

You do not love him anymore.

And one day, you will wake up, and you will know. And you will be okay.

Notes

  1. wakeuptocolor posted this