Say goodnight and go
I'm trying to forget, but she's very memorable. There's a clarity of touch, a certain fidelity of memory that remains. Brilliant flashes of memory like fireworks, vivid and incomparable in my mind, as the soft dawn approaches; the stark contrast of that rosette of light against the night sky fooling my heart's eye into thinking it's brighter than the day rising all around me. More, even though I want to forget it I force myself to remember how dearly I was fooled, into thinking that something was possible when it wasn't. I don't think that House is right, and that people don't change, but I think it's pretty futile to expect anyone to.
She's off of every friend list I have. She's out of my phone. I try not to talk about her, I try not to think about her. I don't know if it's right or not, I don't know if it's healthy or not; I haven't really dealt with it, because I've told myself there isn't much to deal with. I don't know if I'm right or not.
I don't know if she misses me or not, and I'm going to pretend I don't care what the answer is. But I've got to be better off without someone that immature.
...
right?
She's off of every friend list I have. She's out of my phone. I try not to talk about her, I try not to think about her. I don't know if it's right or not, I don't know if it's healthy or not; I haven't really dealt with it, because I've told myself there isn't much to deal with. I don't know if I'm right or not.
I don't know if she misses me or not, and I'm going to pretend I don't care what the answer is. But I've got to be better off without someone that immature.
...
right?