How Do I Unlove You?
I don’t miss you like a boy missing a girl. I miss you like lungs miss oxygen, like a patient on a hospital bed, gasping… choking… eyes begging the ceiling for just one more breath. That’s what your silence does to me. Every second without your voice feels like dying slowly, but with all the pain kept alive. Do you know what it feels like to open your phone a hundred times a day just to not see a message from you? It’s torture. A quiet kind of violence. A bleeding that leaves no wound, but still drains every part of me. I talk to you in my head. Every day. I imagine your replies. I beg you not to leave. And then I remember, you already did. I see you everywhere, and yet nowhere. I carry you like grief, a ghost sewn into my skin. And every heartbeat now feels like a countdown to another night without you. Tell me, how do I unlove you when loving you was the only thing that ever made me feel alive? You were never mine. Not truly. But I loved you like you wer...