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Feel You Twice

 

The timing of my former’s resurfacing is unsurpassed. When it rains, it downpours, ya know? Not in a depressive state, but a humorous disgust. My own episode of a daytime talk show giveaway hit these skeletal remains of the bygone all conspire at once.

I get it, you “tried to work things out” with the ex that you drunkenly cowed was so overbearing and too insecure to ever give another chance to when all I had asked about was your work day.

Or how about you over there? Met during an era where an empty glass was not for long and neither were 12:45-2AM suggestive, summoning texts from you to follow.

Although neither eluded or amounted to anything; the coincidental, simultaneous resurface brought on an overwhelming reminisce, triumph, and disgust.

Those feelings to bring me back to the gram of mind, habits, and volitions that happily will never be entertained again.

My triumph comes from the growth to my self-worth gang not all who returns are with positive intention. And not all of these physical reverberators to be merited another opportunity to abet their recent forsaken relationship-less crises.

Disgust to my past impression undertaken that I would appear undyingly available as the back up plan.

However, with reflection comes alterations. Much to become less factual and more of how I wish to remember what I wish to hold onto negatively and positively. With that, comes longing or distancing toward what once was.

Redemption to overtake mentally, but unfulfilled emotionally. Chasing that ever conflict between closure and rekindle. A “burn baby burn” immensity to fill so many opposite connotations.

And boy, did it. It was like trying to chase the bullet from the same gun I shot.

It’s like diving head first during high tide and not expecting to get pulled under.

There is always that, that little crave for self-sabotage.

“I know the outcome, but just need the satisfaction of knowing that outcome stings still.”

...but if I can feel unphased this time around, the destructive desire to grow dim.

Now, if I could just...

This is the last time, we promise.

-t

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