I walk away. I've made it seem easy to the men I've dated. We breakup, or we end what never really began and I never talk to them again. Its easy. Right?
It's not. The walk away doesn’t hurt too much, at first. Actually, it burns. It stings and my eyes water for the next 24 hours. After that the presence of tears disappear, the hurt fades quickly. I find someone or something to replace them. But they don't just disappear.
Even with this last one. He was fine, he feels no regret, no sadness. It seems the men I "walk" away from are always fine. But I never feel quite settled. Even now, I still wonder what I was lacking, I still miss the conversations, I still miss what we seemingly had.
And while I don't talk of them and I pretend I never really felt anything for them; I believe I must have felt something because later they are still not forgotten.
A song plays, "Skinny Love," "Unchained Melody," "Start a Fire," something that links me to them and then I miss them, I miss those moments, those memories. And so they never really disappear and I never really just walk away. I either miss them or I resent them -- maybe its mixture of both.
But eventually they'll fade, they're fading, they've faded, they are forgotten, nothing but a bitter taste and yet the taste still arises.
I wish I could just walk away, completely forget but it seems I never forget. But, I move on, I love some one else and eventually they're love encompasses all and all those seemingly forgotten, bitter memories are truly forgotten.
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