on not knowing
i think to myself often: they don't think about me at all. or if they do, it's only bad stuff. they think i'm the crazy one for how i acted. they don't miss me. they don't look back on what we had with a smile. nothing reminds them of me. they fully moved on.
but here's what i learned in therapy: i don't know these things. i can assume, but what is it based on? i can only make educated guesses, but that doesn't mean i'm right.
maybe they do think about me. maybe they regret how they acted. maybe they miss me a bit. maybe they do have good memories with me. maybe things do remind them of me. maybe they haven't forgotten about me.
but i still don't know. so what am i to believe? if i imagine them, right now, which version of reality am i supposed to picture? do i give the pessimist and broken heart inside me the satisfaction of thinking the bad version? or do i dare to have a little bit of hope? is hope a good thing if it's about something that will never come back? isn't it just... naive, and setting me up for even more disappointment?
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