Nothing sucks more than “what ifs” and/or “if only’s”. They are the bane of my existence. Really. This isn’t so much regret as it is an annoyance. I have a fairly wild imagination and I can create so many outcomes out of a story that lingers on ellipsis dots.
I have full-on conversations with you, in my head, and I sometimes find myself giggling at our “conversations” too. Because I know you well enough to finish your sentences. And then there are those conversations that really hurt…the ones that are closer to the truth and grate my nipples. I didn’t allow myself to have these conversations with you. I basked in the ones that had me giggling and loving you senselessly! I’ve imagined our ellipsis’ finding conclusions in amicable full stops and sometimes in exclamations from frustration.
Now I’m trying to dumb the racket in my head, of the million words I failed to say.
It’s the scenes that play in my head where we meet up again by chance after having cut each other out of our lives. And then I hear you say: “I’m with her, now” and I desperately want you to remember that you weren’t even supposed to forget me, let alone replace me.
Oh! My poor heart!
Who do I even begin to blame? Me, for not having said those words? Or you, for not having said the words I wanted and needed to hear?
No comments:
Post a Comment