Because of pride, we will never have another message saying hello to each other. Maybe I want to and you want to but honesty is a luxury we can no longer afford, for it would be way too vulnerable. And we don’t do vulnerable. We don’t want to look weak. We want cool. We want to win. We think we’re way better than reaching out to someone who hurt us and definitely better than giving them the chance to point their gun to our head, betting that they will pull the trigger, once again, like the first time they ruined us.
Because of pride, we will never apologize for the past shattered by both our hands, by the pain we caused, by the scars we left, by the words we carelessly threw around, stabbing our innocent hearts till they bled dry and turned black. It’s not my fault, it’s your fault – we both choose to believe, so our egos can be in place. Then we raise our chin, turn our head, stubbornly refuse to be the first to say anything while expecting the other to go miles to chase us, please us, be desperate for us as the only way of compensation.
Because of pride, we will never accept that we still feel something for each other. Not in a million years. Not in our sobriety. Not the morning after half a bottle of Vodka and you were the only person I could ever think of. Not that day you blamed alcohol, weed, or whatever it is that made you high enough to text me and say you still want to see me again even though it did not happen just once. And absolutely not in the tears I shed whenever I’m reminded of you. Not in the way you keep coming back to me every damn time we declare we will stay away forever.
Because of pride, we will never have another start because we will not reach out, we will not say sorry, we will not be truthful to our heart ever. We will keep our head high, our heart safe, our feelings protected, in the texts we never reply, in the calls we never pick up, on the screen that shields us from the reality of a possibility. That’s how we will never ask. We will never catch each other’s eyes again to read the words that were never spoken, to find out the secrets that were long hidden away, to bring back that undeniably strong something tying our paths together.
And because of pride, this will be the end of us, the end of a story that never had an ending, the end of millions of questions that never had their own answers, the end of what-ifs, the end of honesty, of bravery, of something real and amazing.
Isn’t this so fucking stupid? We’re adults, yet we’re still so stupid.
But because of pride, because of fear, we will not even want to admit that we are being stupid. Though, we know and we still drink, still think, still bleed.