This Is For All The Things I Wish You’d Say, But I Know You Won’t

Lucy Maude Ellis
Lucy Maude Ellis

Maybe today I’m sassy. Maybe today I’m worn out. Maybe today I’ve mulled it over in my mind, and frankly I think you’re wrong. Maybe I’m usually prone to forgiving you too quickly, and maybe I’ll still forgive you soon.

But this is for all the things I wish you’d say, but I know you won’t.

I wish you’d tell me to close my eyes. To stop worrying about everything that’s not in my control. I wish you’d tell me this with your arms wrapped around me, holding me so I stop running around trying to prove myself to you, so my heart stops beating so damn fast.

I wish you’d tell me to slow down. That life isn’t about rushing, that this isn’t a race to some invisible finish line. I’ve always been good at going quickly, at filling my days and my pages with lists of to-dos. I’ve always been good at going 100 miles an hour, pulling myself in new directions. But I need you to remind me that it’s okay to slow down.

I wish you’d tell me you love me, again, just because I need a reminder. Sometimes these days get long and I get tired. Sometimes I just need a familiar voice to tell me that I’m not in it all alone.

I wish you’d tell me that you’re sorry. That you didn’t mean the words you said without thinking, that you’d take them back if you could. That all the pain you’ve caused will heal because you never wanted it to be this way, and that you’re longing for my forgiveness.

But I know you won’t.

See, this is for all the things I’ve wished. For all the things I hoped you’d say, but you didn’t. For the times you left me with only a dial tone, static ringing in my year much louder than your yelling voice would ever be. For the times you closed me off, or didn’t let me in. For the times I needed you to give me the strength we both knew I was searching for, but you became too preoccupied, too busy, too distant.

This is for the moments I needed you to be what you promised. And you weren’t.
I hope the truth stings a little, just to let you know that yes, it did hurt me.

Maybe today I’m not myself. Maybe today I’m feeling frustrated and alone. Maybe I just need a moment to remind myself of who I am, and who I’ve always been, with or without you.

Maybe I just needed to vent.
Maybe tomorrow I won’t be angry.

Maybe I’m sorry it had to be this way.
Maybe now I’ve learned to let you go.

But I forgive you. And I love you. Always. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

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