Changes

I wake up and I’m somewhere new.
No cold window at my back, no shock of dark hair attached to a shapeless form in front of me.
The smells are different, the colors are different, my thoughts are different.

No dragging feet and hurried notes on the board.
No texts and phone calls to convey the bullet-pointed version of my day.
No more coming home and hiding from one another behind illuminated screens, our casually empty conversation barely reaching each other’s ears (let alone each other’s hearts).

The world has opened itself up to me, and I breathe it in.
With each breath I take, the memories become less familiar, until I am left with only those that are fond.

Because one should never forget what was, even after it’s over.
I regret nothing, because to regret it would be to turn those fond memories into lies.
And they weren’t lies. They were real, they were true, and they were my life.
Three whole years of my life.

But my life isn’t over now.
It’s new, it’s changed.
It’s colorful and eventful and wonderful.
It’s hopeful and bursting at the seams with possibility.
And it’s all for me.

I’ll take the roads west and sleep in cars and tents.
I’ll paint my walls and I’ll eat vegetables and I’ll use up all the closet space.
I’ll host parties and have sleepovers and sometimes I won’t come home.

And maybe one day we’ll meet again with new faces on.
We’ll talk and we’ll laugh and we’ll pause when we sink into our own thoughts.
And we’ll walk away with light hearts and clear minds,
And mouths twisted into smiles.