I Haven’t Spoken Happiness Since You Left

Sometimes I wish I lost you in a snap.

Sometimes I wish I lost you in the middle of a big fight — in the middle of something so hard to fix that we’d have no choice but to give up. Sometimes I wish I hated you. Sometimes I wish you did me so damn dirty that I’d have no choice but leave. Sometimes I wish you’d just disappear; gone with no goodbyes and with nothing to leave behind. Sometimes I wish it’d be that easy. But for some reason the process had to be so painfully slow that it drains me with every inch of feeling I have left. Sometimes I wish I never met you. Sometimes I wish I never cared.

Sometimes I wish I never lost you.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to every argument and beg for your forgiveness. Sometimes I wish I could go back to every phone call and tell you how much you mean to me. Sometimes I wish I could take back everything I said — every god damn word — that hurt you. Sometimes I wish I could undo all the pain. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and right all the wrongs in hopes that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have lost you at all. That maybe, you’d still be here. Maybe we’d never have fallen out of love.

But here we are.

Together, but falling apart. You’re right next to me but you’re gone. Every night we try to find our way back yet in the morning I’m losing you all over again. And I have loved you with all my heart but I can’t keep searching for someone that doesn’t want to be found. Maybe you aren’t really there anymore.

Or maybe you weren’t really there at all.
I guess I loved you too much; looked in too close and pretended that everything was okay.
I was losing you and I barely knew it.

Now you’re gone.

And I don’t know what to say anymore.
I haven’t spoken happiness since you left —
I think I’m not starting anytime soon.