Seven Weeks
It's been seven weeks since I found out. It's been three weeks since you mistakenly called me by her name. It's been seven weeks since I started moving on and quite doing it well. But it only took you one quick conversation to crush what I had worked on. I called you and asked for a talk. We talked, not of what had happened but what I needed you to stop doing for me to get better. I told you honestly, how I genuinely wanted to move forward. How I was tired to feel anything for you. You said you understood. I hope so. You held my hand, you gaze at me a few times - I didn't want to stare back for too long in fear that my heart would soften. It was bittersweet. It was too bittersweet, but all I can do now is hope that my decision is what's best for me.












