It's your write

breaking up with someone isn’t the hard part. The end of the relationship is easy and finite. The decision is unchanging. The end is fact.

The part that hurts, and the part that requires work is unraveling the happy memories. The tears come from the absence of what was. To try and appreciate the past on a purely friendship standpoint is hard. To forget the flower and the romance takes work. To accept the rejection takes strength. And with each unraveling, you have to remember the memory in it’s entirety. You have to pick it apart, recognizing what was romance and was was friendship. And now, after you separate it, you have to get rid of half of it and throw away wasted efforts. You have to dispose of those feelings because they’re no longer relevant.

The sad part is, after you’ve finished picking apart your time together, and throwing out half of everything, you’re left with a bunch of happy memories that all seem to be incomplete. To remember them is to only come to a frayed end. And then you realize, you don’t even want to remember all the ripped apart memories because the incompleteness is even more maddening than the complete memory.

I just want to stop. I want to stop remembering. I want to stop feeling. I want to stop with putting effort into anything. I want to go to bed and not wake up until I feel normal. I want to sleep until I can’t remember the incomplete, picked apart past that I have in my mind.

I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m out of words. I’m out of feelings. I’m just done.