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Funny when I think about the months That I could not get out of bed Going back and forth over the letters that I wrote but never sent Wake up and repeat it But I was barely sleeping Swimming in the memories, I'm floating in the deep end How come you're not still in my head? I got, you got, we got too much time on our hands Used to be so caught up In the things we had planned I'm not chasing feelings that I don't understand I'm underwater But I'm over you Thought that I'd be good the day I took down all your pictures in my room How'd it go from easier to everything still leading back to you? Can I be honest? I think about you constantly You're closing every door But now I'm looking for an opening Maybe I'm just getting confused I got, you got, we got too much time on our hands Used to be so caught up In the things we had planned I'm still chasing feelings that I don't understand I'm underwater Am I over you?
one year and eight months after
brooke had reached the point where she finally could go days without thinking about matt. he wasn't her every thought anymore, he didn't consume her in the way he used to. she didn't know exactly when it happened, or how, for she thought she would never get over the brunette, but she felt herself moving forward.
she found it funny thinking about how upset she was the first few months. she was living in a new city, beginning her career, following her dreams, and what? she was sad over a boy who didn't want to follow her?
in her los angeles apartment, she hid a shoebox under her bed. it was filled with letters she had written to matt, full of words she couldn't say herself. but as a writer, everything and more was put on those ripped out journal entries.
how could you not follow me? how could you let me end things? was i not that important to you?
they were never sent, nor did she know if she ever could mail them, so for now their permanent home was that shoebox.
looking back at pictures of herself from when she first moved here and the months following, she looked absolutely exhausted. she hadn't realized how little sleep she was getting until her mind had cleared slightly and she didn't realize the mental toll it took on her thinking about matt all night.
brooke wouldn't say she was completely better, for she still didn't feel like los angeles was her home. she was always missing boston. there were times when she debated moving back and trying to continue her career there, or traveling to new york city, or even as far as flying back and forth to LA to record.
that was until her manager had told her about her upcoming tour, where she would open for taylor swift. the opportunity of a lifetime was in front of her, and she couldn't turn it down. she had already made it this far, going back now would be foolish of her. therefore, for now, brooke would have to continue calling los angeles home.
the little shows she had been doing would be nothing compared to opening for taylor swift in sold out arenas.
instead of matt filling every thought, it was replaced with memories. every once in a while, something would happen, and all she would be able to think about is how it related to something that happened with matt. she enjoyed the memories much more than the constant missing him or constantly feeling a need to talk to him. brooke didn't understand how matt wasn't still in her head.
she felt stuck, felt like she was drowning. but at least she was over her ex.
that was until she started deleting pictures from her phone and taking down pictures of her and the triplets from her wall. she thought she would be okay, that it wouldn't hurt, that she was moving on. but as soon as she found herself looking through the pictures, it all came back to her.
how did it go from easier to everything rushing back?
brooke knew then, that she wasn't sure if she was over matt. was she confused? was it just the memories? or was it matt?
