I Drink Myself to Sleep So I Can Dream of You

I couldn’t fall asleep last night because I heard a song you used to love,

And the sound of your laugh still echoes in the back of my mind sometimes.

I willed myself to dream of something other than you, but I can still recall

The sound of your footsteps running up and down the stairwell

Like it’s branded into my memories.

And I won’t lie, I’m still jealous of this world that can experience you.

I’m jealous of the window you rest your head on and the books your fingers will pass through,

And the people you will make laugh, and the people who will make you laugh,

Because I am not a part of it anymore.

I used to remember the friends and moments we shared with a bitter taste in the back of my mouth,

But now I swallow our past with ease,

And it doesn’t give me a stomachache like it once did.

I think to myself,

Is this it?

The finality of the grief?

You still live in the depths of my consciousness.

And I still miss you,

But not in a way that consumes my entire being and rips me to shreds.

Not in a way where your smile once brought me to my knees,

And not in a way where I can’t eat,

Can’t sleep,

Can’t breathe,

Because you are not in my life anymore,

Because you are not mine anymore.

-        Disjointed thoughts I hastily wrote down in the backseat of my Uber on a Saturday night. The more alcohol I consume, the more I think about you. I have decided to become sober.