"Happy Anniversary", I mutter to the cluttered floor of my bedroom.
I could stay in my room, I could learn to live on air and water. I could spend all day among the trees, pretend to grow roots. I could be writing our break up poem. Today could be any other day. It is, to everyone else, including you.
The thing is, today is becoming every other day for me too. I expected something else — maybe to feel bitter again, like I used to. I touch the scar on my knee, I sit in the seat we shared on the bus. I thumb through our memories, trying to find one that will incite some kind of emotional response. Nothing.
It's not like you're a phantom. It's not like you don't exist. It's just that I don't care anymore. A year ago today, I realized you were a stranger to me, and walked away. I looked back today, and realized I never have to look back again.
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