Work Text:
Sometimes,
When the regret is at its highest,
When I can feel the threads holding my heart together ripping,
I make the mistake of going back.
Such a simple, easy act.
I go to a message I saved,
See it when we sent it,
And I see the way we were.
How much I loved you,
And you, me.
It tastes bitter in my mouth when I see it,
See the closeness,
The love,
That I took for granted.
How much I long for it,
Now that it's out of reach.
I see the mistakes that we made,
Not just you, but me too.
I see the way i used to be,
And it makes me ill.
I can feel the bile in my throat rising,
Feel the roil of disgust in myself when I see the way I used to be.
Not always bad, no,
But I wasn't good either.
To be kinder to myself, I was younger then, and not as traveled as I am now.
So much has happened in the time between those old texts and the sparing new ones we share.
Every day, it digs into my skin a little further.
Burrows beneath my defenses,
Whispering in my ear.
All lies, all manipulations of anxiety and worry,
But the voices can get so loud.
So when I make that mistake,
And go back,
I let myself only wonder,
And not linger.
"How could have things been different?",
I ask myself, ask the silence of the room around me, late at night when I go back. There is no response, and I do not wish for one.
So only I wait. Forever here, waiting. I only hope that one day, you will give me the honor of loving you once again.