One of those things where my fingers say words my mouth never ever would:

I find myself skipping songs that remind me of you. Though I miss you, I know that what I really miss is what we were together. Sometimes it seems that you aren't the person you used to be. I don't know if I was looking at you and never seeing who you truly were, or if perhaps, like me, you've changed too. Or it might be a little of both.

And the things we don't talk about pile up between us until I can scarcely see your face anymore. Every word is measured so that I don't say the wrong thing. And the words I can't say are rocks in my mouth, pinning my tongue in place. Forcing me into silence.

I made mistakes. There are things I've done wrong that I don't even know how to apologize for. I hurt you. And there are things you've done to me too. I don't know if you are even aware of them. How would I tell you? What good would that do anyway? Would you feel remorse like me? Could I move on without ever having the answers?

Beyond all of this is the fear that even if I tried, we could never pick up where we left off. I don't want to be that girl I was anymore. I wonder if you would love this person I am now? Would it not work anyway? Or worse, would I start changing back into that creature I have abandoned? I may not like who you are now either. What would happen? Questions.

I'm not even sure what happened anymore. I remember feeling like letting go long before the schism. Suddenly you weren't there and I wasn't reaching for you. And then you tried and I killed the only thing we had left together. The one thing that we always shared. My fault.

Now.

Now I look back with gratefulness at everything good you taught me to be. And I miss everything beautiful and right about you. But I am full of misgivings. All these questions.

I am unwilling to speak about things past. I have no hope for a good conversation there. And I am unwilling to spill these rocks from my mouth.

How then, should I proceed? For now, I just keep skipping the songs that remind me of you.