one of these days

it was always me who was the independent one. the one who needed their space and got anxious if not granted with enough freedom; the one who always wanted to have things their way and didn't really care if i stepped over someone - over you - in the process. it was always me who said i love you, too.

always me; that's why it was such a surprise that it was you who left. 

when you did i thought i would be fine, that after some time i would just slide back into the existence i had before you, before us. i assumed that i would be able to shed the memory of you like a dog that shakes itself dry after taking a plunge into a pond; fast, efficient, and the reality that you ever even existed would be gone so quickly that i wouldn't have to think about it twice.

how wrong i was.

and it must be said, if i had been taken aback by the fact that it was you who left when it was me who had always been the individual out of the two of us, the speed with which i fell apart after you were gone was even more astonishing. i spiralled down in a free fall, shapeless and unable to hold myself together like a scarecrow stripped from its frame, and the only consolation i had was that the bottom would have to come soon; no one can fall forever.

so any day now. i am sure of it.