I wish someone would’ve told me what it felt like when I was young.
The act of getting over someone.
What it felt like to not hate them anymore.
But to still feel that twinge where they’ve claimed a part of your heart forever.
I wish someone had told me it was gradual.
So I didn’t spend so many days slamming my head into walls
To drown the pain of them out with new pain.
But I guess that’s part of growing up.
I guess that part of being an adult.
Knowing the only way to wake up and not think of them
Is to wake up so many days with them being the only thing on my mind.
But I’m old enough to know now.
Old enough to know that love like that sticks to you.
There is always going to be a place in your heart where they fit.
A place only they have claim over.
I am old enough to know that now.
And I’m old enough to know the reason they don’t tell you this when you’re younger
Is because it can’t be taught.
It can only be learned.