Text that Ex?

Tip tap-tip tap the timberland boots march onward without my mind to working with each step taken. I can see the people look at me as I whip by them at New Yorker’s pace. They can see the creases of joy my eyes make.

Breath in the fresh prana, look around at the fresh architecture, and just know yes, we’ve turned the car around. We hit the break, and with a breakdown breakthrough we knew the breakup was the best move. Blinded by a new city of brilliant smiles and wise street lighting the barely dark night hugs any doubt we may harbor. We could be going to a nice cafe, going out with the girls, or even just off to see a new possible love interest. We are on the path of our own choices. We love our life, we love how idealistic our lives have become, how simplified.

There is a cute guy who checks you out and a hot man with a stroller and a husky who doesn’t, and you just know all is right with the world. You did your morning workout, ate just the right amount, and even caught up on some reading.  

But a perfect as our night hours may be traveling around foreign city streets, our hearts remember the question, “What if I were home right now? Would I be so strong? Would I ignore the heaviness my chest harbors with the same resilience?”

Of course not, we know the truth that the second he sent the apology message or said hey on your birthday, we would break right there. We were in love, we still are. No matter how many times your girlfriends say, “your ex is an asshole” or our family encourages us he wasn’t right for us, there is something you just know about this person is different. Something about the situation is a special circumstance.

You are over the problems that seemed to come up in the past and time as well as new people you’ve gotten yourself involved with has shown you the reality of how big those little problems actually were. Everything was fine with your relationship, even almost exactly everything you could want, and if you decided to be bold you could have that with him again.

Yet we are alone. Hopelessly, but happily, isolated at our own free will. With the ability to be with anyone anywhere, however, here we are to ourselves. Sure there will be those that try to penetrate our thick layered bubble, but our hearts have been cut off and kept cold in a chamber within a secret treasure chest we don’t even possess the keys to. All we must do is find the key to unlock it! But this time there will be no helpers in the art to winning our hearts, we must slay the dragon all on our own with our cute manicured princess nails.

We wonder further down into the dungeon, to the pits of self, “Why don’t we just reach out to the one hero we know has the keys to our heart?” The question lingers on a late night glass of wine and lays in our lap as we finally turn off the lights. It’s dangerous in these dark hours, these late hours, these hours that remind you, “What if it’s too late? Has it been too long? Should I have not left him in the dark?” Fingers dancing around the trigger very little stops us but the terrifying final thought, “Maybe he’s with someone else?”

We remove our eyes off the screen we roll our minds back into our blanket and call it a rest. We feel we’ve run out of time the sand in the glass has slipped away and the window of opportunity has ceased to let in a drift.

Tonight is just not that night.


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