Forget About Me

by Nicole Miller, 2015

Excerpt from Rebelsfare Collective: Volume Two. To purchase from Amazon, click here. 

 

Although I still love you, you decided that you didn’t love me enough to change—and so I hope that you will eventually be able to forget about me.

I don’t want your memory haunted by my voice and the way that it got just a little softer around the edges when you were around.

I know that it’s not possible to erase our history—white it out to make it seem like it never happened.

I should know that more than anyone, because I have tried.

I spend the majority of my days forcing myself not to think about you.

I made myself forget about the story of a girl who couldn’t fix a boy so she had to leave.

It’s a terrible tragedy when people part ways.

You gave me no choice.

It was impossible to stay.

The truth is, my eyes are filling with tears right now thinking about your soft brown eyes and the way they always seemed to break me in two.

I make the tears I shed count—inside each one is the sensation of your lips upon mine and the scent of your skin mingling with mine.

And no matter what has transpired, my only wish for you is that you don’t miss me as much as I yearn for you.

I hope that unlike me, you will be able to forget about me.

All of me—everything about the woman I am.

That maybe with time, the blues of my eyes won’t seem as brilliant, and maybe the way my hair falls across my bare shoulders won’t be as alluring.

I hope that someday, you’ll only remember all the reasons why we split up and none of the ones of why I should have stayed.

I dream of the idea of having someone else, and I do wish you happiness as well.

I understand why you had to cut me out of your life—we always were an all or nothing scenario.

For the longest time, I thought you would choose everything—because who really wants to be left with nothing.

But, you didn’t.

And that’s okay—because I suppose  I wasn’t meant to be a part of your journey any longer.

I couldn’t do for you what those little white pills could. I could only stay awake all night to make sure you were still breathing. I could only give you every resorce possible to help you shake this ugly illness that took over the man I love.

But the thing is, I love you enough that I want you to be happy, even if it’s not by my side. Even when you are consumed into your own world of darkness.

I hope you don’t blame me for having to say good-bye to you, and attempt to erase any sign you were ever here.

It’s the moments and people who pull on our heart that make it impossible to move forward if they are still lingering on the sidelines.

So, please understand why I’m trying to take an eraser to the memories of us.

The thing is, I am okay without you—most of the time.

But, if I am honest with myself, it’s only because I have taken my feelings for you, the recollections of our time together and the sound of your voice and wrapped it up in thick burlap, tied with the heavy ribbon of bittersweet memories and have buried it as far into my psyche as possible.

I know that I will have to deal with it at some point, but I can’t right now.

Because now, the only thing that I want to do is forget—remembering just hurts too much.

I hope that you don’t feel the same way I do.

I hope that when you lay in your bed late at night, whether you are alone or not, that it’s not the feeling of my skin that crosses your mind before you fall asleep.

I hope that you don’t miss my laughter and the way we always talked about anything and everything.

I hope that you don’t think of me at all—not even for an instant, not even for a minute.

Because I would never want to get in the way of your happiness or to be a memory that causes you regret.

I genuinely care for you enough that I hope you will forget everything soon.

Not really because I want to be forgotten—but because I want you to be happy.

And if you need to pretend that I don’t exist so that you can move forward into your future, I understand.

I only ever wanted you in my life if you desired to be there—I didn’t want to fight for you or to beg you to stay…even though I did.

I wanted you to be here and when you no longer did, that was why I let you go—even though it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

The only thing I wish for you now is the exquisite beauty found through forgetting that I am still here, still me and still available.

If one day you realize that maybe there is no such thing as forgetting a woman like me — that maybe I’m worth dealing with your addiction—then I hope you have the courage to do something about it.

Because it’s never too late to change the ending of the story.