“Is this just a rebound then?” She asked me.
“Of course not,” I replied instinctively, not even understanding how I was answering.
I’ve never been in such a place before, though.
Without someone who I think of so much.
Who I haven’t had for months, closer to a year than not.
I’ve never rebounded before, how long can it last?
How long can you think of someone you don’t have before you stop?
I read her notes to me with an aching smile.
I see her hand written doodles in the margins and try not to wince.
I write her again but send it to someone else begging them to tell me to stop.
The ball bounces and someone else picks it up but I can’t take my eyes off the net.
What happens at the one year anniversary of that moment? Or the other one?
Am I still going to be standing there with my hand in the air looking at the missed shot?
How long is this going to last?
Do I even want it to end?
Ending means not thinking of her anymore.
She would be out of my mind and I could move on to someone else or at least enjoy nothing.
I don’t know if I want that though.
I’d rather continue that ache and remember her then feel nothing.
But what does that say about the rebound?