I tell myself it doesn’t matter when I see your hand around her waist
when I glance at another picture and you’re looking at her
the way you used to look at me.
No, I don’t care that you’re happy,
that you’ve moved on,
that there’s a list of things you love
about someone else.
I’m not bitter
that she’s the one by your side on a Friday night,
sweet nothings in your ears.
Or that when your mind is fuzzy and clouded
with the rum we used to drink
you never think about reaching for your phone
and calling me.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter that when I’m alone
my thoughts still drift to you
and the way your kiss felt on my mouth.
It’s just a phase, just a memory
that will fade
from my mind
the way I faded from yours.
I don’t care that you’re laughing,
that you’re bellowing karaoke to the songs
we used to hum to one another
in the kitchen on a Sunday morning,
pancakes on the stove
and the dogs nipping at our ankles.
No, I tell myself I’m no longer concerned
about the fact that you’ve genuinely forgotten
Or you’re holding a ring
and she’s falling to her knees
and everyone is laughing around you,
forgetting I ever existed.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter.
But it does. It does. It does.
Featured Image Credit: Marisa Donnelly