It's the things you wish you would have said. It's the bittersweet should of, would of, could of.
"I'm staring at the mess I made, as you turn, you take your heart and walk away. Should've held my ground, I could've been redeemed for every second chance that changed its mind on me. I should've spoken up I should've proudly claimed that my heads to blame for all my heart's mistakes."
-Parachute, "The Mess I Made"
I knew it was coming--it hit me this morning and made me so angry. I knew he was going to walk away. Too much.
You love me, when will you let me love you back?
It's the question I've been asking for a couple of weeks. Dancing through emotional land mines. Ignoring the inner voice that told me it was too good to be true. Nobody gets to be this happy. I guess we know the answer to the burning question. More than likely, never. I was afraid to get the gaze frosted over by ice again--always bracing myself for the rug to be pulled out from underneath me. It's the brutal romantic cliche--it's not you, it's me.
Saturday, he kissed me so passionately--the fireworks across the street dimly lighting my bedroom, these tiny explosions echoing the sparks between us. We had..maybe have.. a onceinalifetime kind of a wonderful.
I told you whatever you needed, it was yours. So now we aren't going to be talking or seeing each other for a few weeks...a month...whenever. I know how the cliche story goes. A week turns into a month, a month turns into 6 months, 6 months turns into never. I want to believe you--but I've never had a man actually keep his word. I also never thought you would cut me out of your life. Not so abruptly. I hope that you really are a man of your word, but I have to move forward with no expectations.
It's not believing that you're going to call. It's believing that the bond that we have is so strong that we can withstand all of this.
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