I’m starting to feel again.
It’s been a long time coming and it scares me.
But I know it’s a sign that I’m moving on. It can
only be good.
But it’s more than a feeling, it can be
measured: in centimetres between skin, in
chemicals released by my brain. Tonight I sat
next to a woman. Not a girl. A woman. And
every movement she made was significant.
Every touch we made was loaded with
meaning. Perhaps I was projecting, hoping
against hope that there was something there.
And though I couldn’t be sure, there was
something there. An emotional connection.
I haven’t felt that since the days we were still
whatever we were. To be able to sit next to a
someone and feel something. I’ve craved that
which you took from me.
She may disappear from my life soon and
that’s okay. We weren’t meant to be anything.
But she’s made me realise: you don’t control
me anymore.