Til She Gets Over You
You just bring me down
So I'm counting the tears 'til I get over you
She counted down th days until she got over you.
The first second, minute, hour. All numb. It shouldn't have been such an inconceivable idea that you were gone, really. After all, disappearing had always been your best magic trick.
And yet, she couldn't seem to accept it. The words her mother spoke bounced off of her; she was a wall of denial.
You didn't leave her thoughts all day.
(She still hasn't left yours.)
The next day, the anger took over. She hated you; she wondered why she ever loved--yes, loved--you. You knew, on the other side of the country, that you deserved this hatred. In fact, part of you hoped she had the sense to hate you. You hoped she never wanted to see you again.
(It'd be easier for both of you to move on that way.)
The anger subsided a week later, and was replaced by the sadness she would never have let you see had you been there. She cried every night for a month, and she didn't know why because it didn't hurt this way with Dean.
You aren't Dean, though.
So she cried.
(You still wish you could be there to remove the pain.)
A month passed, and the pain was easier for her to bear. She had grown used to having it as her constant companion. She still couldn't talk about you, but the fact that she no loner cried was comforting. She knew, at least, that someday you would just be a memory of some not-quite-fulfilled love.
Until then, she walked side-by-side with the pain that oddly seemed to resemble you.
(Funny, you're pain resembles her, too.)
Six months later, she only thought about you in those quiet moments when she couldn't fall asleep, or when she happened across a book you would have liked. She no longer pulled out your Metallic t-shirt that you left at her house one day and forgot about; instead, it sat in the back of her closet, where it still is today and will probably stay forever. (She couldn't seem to bring herself to throw it out.)
That same month, you came back and told her the one thing she always wanted to here.
She almost cried after you left. Almost.
(You did cry.)
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and she slowly found you leaving her thoughts. Sure, she thought about you occasionally. Sometimes, she still wished she could call you--because you got her in a way that only her mother had ever been able to before--but she didn't have your number, and didn't know what she'd say, anyway.
She turned you down when you asked her to come away with you because she knew you and knew you would just run and break her heart all over again.
You didn't know that a part of her will always love you, though.
(It would hurt you to know that part gets smaller every day.)
She counted down the days until she got over you.
(You're both still counting.)