You’re not thinking of me. You’re not missing me. You’re not looking back at old pictures. You’re not constantly checking your phone or hoping the next text you get is from me. You’re not listening to the playlists we made one another. You’re not closing your eyes to to picture me smiling back at you. You’re not struggling to find sleep. You’re not hoping to wake up one night and find it was all a dream, and that I’m sleeping next to you. You’re not absently whispering, “I miss you and I love you” to the empty space next to you.

You’re not reading over the letters I sent you. You’re not crying whenever you hear a song that reminds you of me. You’re not hoping I’ll show up at your door one day, ready to forget we ever broke up. You’re not counting the days since the last time we saw one another. You’re not counting the days until you’ll see me again. You’re not searching through old messages and emails to find every time I told you, “I love you.” You’re not thinking about our first road trip together. You’re not thinking about our first vacation together.

You’re not trying to remember the way I smell. You’re not dreaming of kissing me again. You’re not wishing you could spend the night wrapped up in me. You’re not thinking of the nights spent talking in the dark while we fell asleep. You’re not thinking about our future together. You’re not looking at the twist tie ring I made and slipped over your finger. You’re not looking at all the reminders of me in your room. You’re not holding onto the hope that someday we’ll find one another again. You’re not missing my hand in yours. You’re not wishing you could have your arms around me and feel mine around you.

You’re not staring at my name on Gmail waiting for me to say something. You’re not hoping I’ll break the silence so you feel I still want you in my life. You’re not wish I would send your shirt back so you can smell me on the fabric of it. You’re not having daily conversations with yourself about whether it’s worth it to get out of bed every morning. You’re not wondering what you did wrong or what you could have done differently. You’re not replaying the birthday video I sent you to hear my voice and hear me say, “I love you.”

You’re not searching through your memories to find some sign that I wasn’t happy. You’re not feeling like you’ve lost your best friend. You’re not feeling the world is cold without me. You’re not trying to reclaim things that used to be yours but became ours. You’re not terrified you’ll never see me again. You’re not thinking about the void left by my absence. You’re not writing letters you’ll never send expressing how much you miss me and how much you love me and how I just need to hold on for the future.

I am.