This seems like a story I’ve told before, even though it’s the first time writing it down. Maybe I’ve been too scared, or maybe I only write to give myself closure and I wasn’t ready to close this chapter of you. But today I am ready. To write about time and about healing, all things I’ve had to deal with recently.
I realized that time is the only thing that actually heals me from you. You can put as many Band-Aids on as you like, but it’s not going to close the wound any faster, and it’s not going to make it hurt any less. Band-Aids are just that: aids for the mind. They cover up the bad and ugly wound as if it’s not even there but deep down you can still feel the pain. People dull the pain, and stop the bleeding, by throwing themselves in a assortment of things: booze, men, shopping, tattoos. But beneath all the pretense lies a still fresh wound that will only heal over time.
At first I was in denial about even having an injury that needed to be treated. I thought everything was going to be fine and dandy; I wasn’t ready to feel the pain yet. But honestly, who is ready to deal with unspeakable ache? So I distracted myself with my own form of Band-Aids; shopping, traveling, running, snap-chatting you and probably others, and dreaming. Dreaming had to be the worst one, because in my dreams there was just you and me, together forever. So I hoped and I pleaded that you would not move away, or, once the move was inevitable, that you would want to try long distance. In the end though, I had to stop being foolish and rip the Band-Aid off. Being that I had neglected the wound for so long, it flowed quickly; a river of blood running through a valley, needing perpetual healing. Or so I thought.
My phone begins to vibrate, inching its way across the table. More than a daily preset alarm but an increased chance to put into the atmosphere some kind of change or wish. 11:11. It occurs twice a day, and for the longest time my wish was you. But here is living proof as I write and say that today, six months later, I am happy that you are no longer my 11:11 wish.