You can keep all the memories.

I want to write a scathing review of how our life played out but I just don't.

I just don't write that because I am currently in love with the feeling of freedom too much to get bogged down in a thing that should make a difference but it just doesn't.

It just doesn't matter anymore. The past is gone and no amount of rehashing will make it any less ugly so I choose the future.

I choose the future that doesn't include you and your fitful ways, your dysfunction, your painful longings and my clenched jaw.

My clenched jaw is relaxed for the first time since the betrayal that cost me my joy so I will vanish from your sight and sound and I wish you'd do the same.

I wish you'd do the same because pretending doesn't change a thing and we've pretended too long already.

Too long already.

I want to write and say how I am hurt by the revelation of the lie we lived but that would even be a lie and I'm long past that, too.

I'm long past that, though everyone knew the truth, we all took part in the pretending. Some of us rewrote history. Some of us made a point to remember but, really, what was the point?

What was the point?

We'd have all been better off if our lives played out in separate ways after all.

After all, you never really had me and I knew it all along.







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