i’ll memorise you, word for word

it’s not even in front of me yet, and my heart’s already pounding. i can feel the adrenaline stumbling through my veins. unsure if it’s fight or flight.

my fingers have become clumsy on the keys. letters sprawl across the screen. everywhere they don’t belong.

my tummy feels queasy and my skin starts to crawl over itself with prickling, hot, fear.

what will it do to me?

i didn’t think i’d read it as quickly as i did. considering i’d held onto it, unopened, since ‘july 2012’ (as was written, right at the end, perhaps i wouldn’t have known that, otherwise).

his handwriting was youthful. the letter ‘a’ switching shapes, from word to word. &, not and. spelling mistakes making me smile. but, it wasn’t until i reached the end – his name, with a single x – that i felt anything.

it sits on my desk. torn in two. by mistake, not out of hate.

i was never meant to read it. but this thing, that has been in the back of my mind for over half a year, needed an escape. my heart needed an escape. from the memory. the what ifs. the plans that don’t exist.

so that’s it.

until next time. he wrote.

and so it floats away.

actions speak louder than words.

i didn’t look back. they’re gone, erased. the feeling is fading too, you know it takes time you’ve heard it all before.

the energy saved for this has been sapped from my body and i’ve given up wanting. wanting to think about it, him, us. given up wanting. it doesn’t deserve my time, my thoughts. so this is it. a last spill.

they were only ever words.