You deserve more than whiskey fueled dreams and clumsy kisses. More than someone who can’t make up her mind. You deserve cotton candy filled skies and moonlit nights. You deserve promises made with a tongue grazing your lips. You deserve wedding bells and diamond rings. You deserve a life filled with laughter and happiness. You deserve more than I can give you.
I’ve heard there are two things you need to make a relationship work, timing and chemistry. We can’t blame this one on timing, because I gave you years that went to waste. How many times have promises of forever escaped my lips, while you couldn’t even commit to tomorrow? And chemistry? Did you forget that there was a time when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other? Your coded texts mixed with, “I miss you” and, “I love you” between drawn out messages and secret meeting places. So tell me, what was the thing missing to make this relationship work?
Nothing’s change, except time. I still feel the same, but every time I try to bridge the distance between us, I get shoved back with both hands. And how many times can one person justify standing an arm’s length away, hoping for things to be different, to be better? When history creates habits hard to break, it’s difficult to look passed all the bad. Things may never have been the way I wanted them to be, but not for one moment do I second guess this. I’d take the bad all over again if it meant sense could be made out of this mess we created.
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To be honest, thoughts of you invade my mind way more than I would like to admit. Every time we parted, it was as though you hadn’t really been there at all. I couldn’t remember seeing you, or the words you had said. You could say I wasn’t paying attention to the fact that you were even there. We were taking up the same space, but I couldn’t remember it. I had this distinct feeling that I may have made you up in my mind. That you were never really there, but rather a thought that was meant to help me get though a past that still haunted me and that isn’t fair to you.
I never gave you the chance you deserved.
You were sad and after failing to keep the promises to yourself, you found yourself soaking in intoxicants. Decisions were easy in this state; you were driven by simple needs and desire. There was no question of whether or not you should do this; you were going to do it regardless. Despite the desire to constantly be in control, you give in. You find yourself at her door, for the first time in years. It was as if nothing had changed and you were reliving a time when this was all you wanted.
If I wanted a boring life, I suppose I wouldn’t be attracted to women who threw hand grenades into it. I spend most of my time running after them, trying to stuff the pins back in. Every so often one would go off before I could stop it. I would watch as the explosion caused broken fragments of collateral damage to slowly fall to the ground. In those moments I swear you could catch a smirk on my face. Now, please watch as history repeats itself.
There is a girl who belongs to no one. I don’t even think she belongs to herself. She breaks her own heart every day. In ways she doesn’t understand and when someone tries to get close, she shuts down so completely, with steel doors slamming in their face. There is no saving her, or fixing her. She isn’t a broken item, so easily glued together. She is the reflection of everlasting pain, the kind that rips and tears at you from the inside telling her how she will never be good enough. What she can’t understand is how she is more than enough, but those words are never allowed to penetrate her eardrums.
Maybe, she doesn’t know how to exist outside of misery, the warm pit of despair she likes to call home. You are left to climb over her walls, but even that isn’t enough because her home is rigged with electric fences and Doberman Pinschers that have acquired a taste for flesh. Alarms are rigged to which no one has the password for. Not to mention the bars on the windows and an armory so large, you’d think we were in the apocalypse. But this isn’t the end of the world, and my time is too short to allow the sniper one more shot at my heart. I was already bleeding before I arrived. I can’t survive more wounds being inflicted on me.