somebody else

“you were the better part
of every bit of beating heart that i had –
whatever i had.
i finally sat alone,
pitch black, flesh and bone.
i couldn’t believe that you were gone.”

up until this point, i have never experienced regret.
the kind of regret that makes you feel like you don’t even know who you are anymore,
or how you could have made some of the choices that you did.
i’ve never felt true regret about anything…. but now?
i’m flooded with it.

now, regret sings me to sleep every single night,
and it sits with me in the morning.
regret follows me around during the day,
and watches me drink my cup of coffee.

most of the time, regret is quiet and unnoticeable,
but other times it screams at me in my face
and hits me in my stomach.
the pain of these moments makes me question everything
that happened between us, makes me analyse
and re-analyse, and wonder where it all went wrong.

and what i could have done differently.

“and all this time, i have been lying
oh, lying in secret to myself.
i’ve been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf.
and i was running far away.
would i run off the world someday?”

despite the depressing, murky confusion left in the aftermath of our relationship,
some things still make perfect sense.

i still comprehend the depths of what we had,
how miraculous it felt (and was) to love and be loved in such a way.
and i know it was very, very real.

i also know that i will never find it again.

“i tried to write it down
but i could never find a pen.
i’d give anything to hear
you say it one more time,
that the universe was made
just to be seen by my eyes.”

eventually, i hope that regret will decide to leave me alone…
although i don’t see that happening for a very long time.
or maybe as the days pass one by one,
it will slowly be replaced by gratitude.

gratitude for having experienced what we did
(because i didn’t know that was possible)
and for the strength you gave me over the years,
(i couldn’t survive this world without it)
and for every beautiful moment you added to my life.
(no matter how much they haunt me now)

i love you.

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