The butterflies will go away. The surprising phone calls they make on their ride home to ease the chaos of the road no longer occur. The “goodnight beautiful”s and “morning babe”s die with their voice leaving the room.
We’re going to fight. We’re going to disagree. We’re going to think we made a grave mistake of trying to mend our scarred minds and broken hearts with one another, only for another screech to burst through the stitches.
Some days, we’ll be completely in love with each other, swimming in a pool of our enlarged pupils. Some days, the only thing we’ll search for to give us a last glimpse of hope are those blacks in our eyes.
We’ll say things we don’t mean, like “everyone was right about you”. We’ll flirt with another person to fuel envy in the other when we know we shouldn’t. We’ll leave each other’s laundry out in the hallway, as cold and wet as our hands on a white-less winter day.
And honestly, it’s okay. It’s completely fine. The difference is when you come down from the highs, you have to decide if you’re willing to go through the withdrawing lows.
The truth is we cared too much for each other. We didn’t want to hurt one another, yet in the process of holding our breaths and turning our cheeks, we imploded with knee jerk reactions. We wanted the best for one another, to be the best version of ourselves for the other, but we were too afraid to strip off the mask in fear of a frightening reaction.
And yes, maybe we’re too strangled by the things going on in our head right now to create any sanity we wish to have. I always hated the little voice in my mind telling things I shouldn’t believe.
We got scared. We couldn’t grasp the astonishing normalcy we felt between us two, leading us to be as careful as we possibility could around one another. We held onto any good, diminishing the bad as quick as the wind instead of addressing it.
I commended you for dodging my eggshells, but I should have known to clean them up from the beginning.