I’m on the bus and there’s a person on it that reminds me of you, similar high and prominent cheek bones, similar lip and mouth shape.
You asked me one day about how I felt about the name Alice for you, but right now looking at this person, I feel like you’re a Lucy. I’m not really sure why. An Alice Lucy.
Another day that I am reminded of you and I can’t speak to you. Another day that I think of you and can’t talk to you. I can’t come to you about anything. I can’t tell you I even miss you. I can’t tell you of the positive things lately. I can’t tell you that I care about you unless it’s through writing and even then you’ve probably stopped checking up on me.
Is this getting easier for you? Are you happier now? Maybe you’ve found someone else. Maybe you’re happier being alone now.
I hope I will be happy alone some day. I have made one with my bed and it’s become so addictive.
I hope that one day I stop hoping that we will end up in each other’s lives again. I hope that one day the hopes that you still think of me disappears. I hope that one day, I stop thinking about you.
One day I will become more of a nothing than I already am. I’m just waiting until it happens.