You occupied the space in my head, your whole walk up to me. The bar was crowded, but not overly so. And we’ve seen it both ways. I had too much Tequila, and you, too many Rolling Rocks. And the attraction was so high I thought the place might blow. I guess that’s one thing that will never change between us, our attraction to each other. My eyes can instantly find yours in a crowded room, every time.
We fell back into each other. Something I played out in my head, over and over again. My own torment. You looked at me like you used to, back when you were together enough to want only me. And you made my heart ache.
We talked, we did shots, you told me you missed me, I told you I missed you. And if I was anything but drunk, I could have realized you were lonely. And not the lonely I wished you’d become. Not the lonely ‘I only want you’ lonely. The lonely where anyone would do. Anyone could fill the hole you so carelessly walk around in the day and fall into at night.
How did we end up here? How did we end up these two people in this bar? Complete strangers to not only each other, but ourselves.
I told you if this was just because you didn’t want to spend the night by yourself, I’d never forgive you. If this was you breaking my heart all over again, we couldn’t even be friends. Do you remember that? You kissed me, right there in the bar and you proceeded to take me home and it was the same routine it was a year ago. The only difference, you weren’t mine anymore. You held my hand, you kissed my forehead, you brushed my hair from my face. And I fell asleep on your chest, just as I did a year ago. I fell asleep with that grim knowledge that by morning, we’d both be filled with awful regret. I, because you held my heart on a string. Because you were holding all the power. And you, because you knew this, because you knew by morning you were going to crush me, all over again.
And morning came, and you rolled over to kiss me good morning, like you had never stopped, like you used to every morning. This rattled me. I had to think real hard to remember how much time had passed. Because in this moment, I wasn’t sure I had left at all. And we spent our last day together as if time had never drove a stake between us. I’m still not entirely sure if this was a gift or a burden.
We both knew the day would eventually end, and I’d have to go back home to Maine. You drove me back to my moms in your new car. The one I’d never seen. The one you sold your truck for. And in this moment I realized nothing was the same. Not a damned thing. Nothing about you or your life. I was living 5 hours away now and you just continued living your life while mine was on hold.
This is it. This is all I’m ever going to be left with. I got out of the car, holding no hope. You really were gone. Gone for good. And I held on to ‘gone for now’ for so long, that now it sounded so absurd in my head to try to jumble it into the mess that was my thoughts.
We become these different people, these strangers. It’s a strange feeling to be the one looking in on yourself. And here I am, still sitting on my grudge for you, not forgiving. And I refuse to move. I will not budge.