I catch myself looking at the clock. Counting down the minutes until I leave. I’m leaving and moving to Finland for a few months. It’s a few months so I’m not making a huge deal about it. However the more and more I think about it, how nice would it be to get the freshest of starts? Maybe I’m just bored here, a little to tied down, a little confined.
There are things about going away that scare me, and make me anxious. New Beginnings right?
It’s probably well documented that there’s a girl in my life. My ex. I won’t go into detail about what’s been going on but for whatever reason there’s something in me that tells me to not give up or let go. Now that’s probably my soft mushy romantic side. That side of me has gotten me hurt more often than I care to admit.
Stupid right? Adel just go and forget about her. I won’t even try that. When you try to forget, try to move on, everything you do she’ll be at the root of it. That’s how and why people take so long to move on. That’s how and why so many people walk around with bitterness and hate or sadness. I don’t want to be that person.
She’s the only person I really care to see before I leave because I know I’ll get a hug. And while I give a lot of hugs there are some people you hug and you feel all of them. Not their body against yours but, when they’re in your arms everything just seems to stop. That’s so fucking cliche and I’m disappointed that I used it but it’s the best way to describe it. When I hug her, there weren’t many opportunities to do so, everything just seemed right. The last hug I gave her was shit, a one handed half hearted hug. It wasn’t by design it just happened because I was leaving. And then when she left a week later on vacation I didn’t hug her.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Not what I didn’t do, but how I’d like a hug, for what could be the last time. I say that because we’re the worst broken up couple on the planet. And the way we’ve been with one another. Maybe I’ll leave with all this hope and she’ll find someone who makes her super happy. Happier than I ever could. Why don’t I have the same idea about me? Because I’m a hopeless idiotic romantic that holds onto hope, even in the darkest of times.
I don’t know if I’ll see her before I leave. Love is hard. Love is stupid. And most importantly love hurts. It’s a stupid emotion but I’d rather this than anything else.