Out of Sight, Out of Mind.

I’ve never been an out of sight, out of mind, kind of person.
I assume that most people with anxiety aren’t.
We’re good at worrying about things we can’t see – that don’t even exist.
I’m good at loving people, from a distance.
My friendships are scattered across this country and in other parts of the world
I have stretch marks on my heart and every once in a while, they hurt.
I think about everything, despite whatever is right in front of me.

This week I saw change, and I fell apart in front of it.
I’ve never felt so naive in my life.
Two days ago, I walked away so I wouldn’t have to watch you walk out the door.
I know you too well, at this point, too well for my own good.
You’re good at compartmentalizing everything
At packing up boxes and putting them into storage
And in the utmost selfish way,
I’m worried that I’m going to end up in one of those.
Out of sight, out of mind.

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