I want to say I’m sorry. I want to want be sorry. Yet if I’m honest, I can’t say that I am, at least not in this moment.
We’ve been on this rollercoaster for what feels like years now, doesn’t it? One moment you say I am all you can think about, yet as soon as you have me I am nothing more than an achievement. You go out of your way to declare you love and desire for me, knowing that I am not willing to just accept when things are done halfway, only to scale yourself back once you’ve convinced me you’re all in.
Our story has been years in the making, and it doesn’t tell much of a story at all.
One too many times we have chosen to let the other go, only to stumble back into each other’s lives again. One too many times we chose to run back into something familiar, despite that it came at a cost. And here we are at that crossroad once again—one where you’re begging for another chance, because you say you know better now. That our time apart opened your eyes and you realize, again, what a mistake you have made.
And if I’m honest, when you’re looking at me the way you always do, it is hard to not think going back wouldn’t be so bad. Not because I truly believe it, but because habits die hard and rituals can seem right, no matter how wrong they turn out to be. We’ve done the same dance for as long as we’ve been in each other’s gravity, and we never have gotten any better at it.
And now, I don’t have any interest in trying to do this again.
I don’t want to go back, because I know where this ends. I know that the beginning seems so sweet because you’re pulling out all your best moves and lines, only for them to vanish the moment you can call me yours again. I know that I’ll spend my nights wondering what I did to make you think I’m not worth it anymore. I know I’ll spend my days walking on eggshells, fearful of the day the floor shatters beneath us again. I can see it all playing out in my mind, and there isn’t any part of me that wants to go through it again.
Before, I was convinced that things could be different. That we would grow and change, hopefully together, and make something wonderful out of all the mess. I believed we could find a way to make all of our heartache not have to be in vain. Yet now I’ve realized that sometimes there is no way to make something better when there just isn’t much there to begin with. Some things fall apart because that’s exactly how they are supposed to be.
No one should feel the need to fix something just because it’s broken.
You and I have found countless ways to break, and trying to put ourselves back together has been nothing but exhausting for me. The sound of your name honestly just makes me tired. My mind and my body are void of any other response anymore. And when something is right, when something is worth trying again, the idea of it shouldn’t drain you. It shouldn’t make you feel as though all the good parts of you are wasted and worthless.
I think that by now, if we could’ve been right for each other, we would’ve found out already. I think we would know that there was something more to hold onto than simply memory. Yet the only thing I know for certain is that this is not something I want. Not anymore.
I want to say that I’m sorry. I want to want to be sorry.
Yet if I’m honest, I can’t say that I am.