This Is The Moment You Let Go


It’s a phone call in the middle of the night.

Heart pounding, hands sweating, pulse racing. You know this phone call, you don’t even have to look at the number. Your finger presses the talk button, and the phone feels hot against your cheek. You hear that familiar voice, the voice that you had been waiting to hear:

Deep. Strong. Unwavering.

Everything you are not.

It starts innocent, the alcohol not quite settled. His words aren’t slurred, but your thoughts are. You haven’t had a drink since he’s left, and you smile in that satisfaction.

You thought you’d break when he’d left. You thought it’d all end with him. Those memories that never even happened, played on your mind, until you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d blocked them out. You’d blocked out all the thoughts of him.

The nights when you were consumed with him. Wrapped in his arms, clutching a pillow that you pretended were him.

Crying out into the night – asking why, why you had to be in the position you were in. What did I do to deserve this?

And, now, a phone call.

The memories come crawling back, like some wounded animal that’s looking for attention. You want to stroke it, you want to accept it back in to your arms.

He’s no good for you.

What’s he saying? The heat on your cheek reminds you that there is an actual voice coming through the phone. He wants to come over. He wants to try again.

Your eyes dart to the clock. 52 minutes past midnight.

Those nights at the bar, dancing to songs that could make your ears bleed. Bodies moving to the same beat. The smell of alcohol, and stale smoke. His cheap cologne, penetrating your senses. Making you dizzy. Making you spin.

It’s too much.

He was too much.

And you, you were never enough.

And just like that, you let go. He was never yours. And you were never his. Those words that he spoke, were just that, words. He never loved you. He never wanted to be with you. Not like that. He fooled you. But look at you;

Deep. Strong. Unwavering.

Everything he is not.