May 10, 2011

recant, we can't

I want to take back the weeks I spent studying you, trying to find ways to fit into you, to see why someone like you would want someone like me. I want to take back all the times I feigned interest because I was never good at it anyway and you could always tell.
I want to take back the times I stormed out of your apartment, but I especially want to take back counting to ten outside your front door, knowing full well you weren't coming to stop me. I was anxious the entire day afterwards. Both times.

I want to take back all the times I was afraid to say your name aloud, so as not to jinx it. I should've jinxed it from the start; maybe I would be less surprised now.
I want to take back calling you neurotic and fidgety because you took it the wrong way. Because you couldn't hear the endearment behind the criticism. Rather, every time I chose to be clever or facetious  instead of being sincere.
I want to take back all the half-assed, timid attempts at opening up to you about the things that have hurt me in the past. If I knew you would use it against me, I would've gladly pretended they hadn't happened. I should've owned them with the respect and significance they deserve.
I definitely want to take back the first time I cried in front of you because you yelled at me for taking my bad mood out on you. I should've just told you I was upset at you for not giving a shit. Or not appearing to anyway.

I want to take back the shred of my heart I gave to you. If I didn't feel that you were worthy of the whole thing, why did I bother butchering it up just to sate the relationship? I want to take back every time I told you I loved you towards the end, not because I didn't mean it, but because I mostly needed to hear you say it back. I turned it into a weapon that only hurt myself. Because you never said it in a way that made me feel loved and I just walked away feeling slightly empty and deluded. I want to take back the love I created in spite of you.

And not that it even matters, but I want to take back the time in my bedroom after our first big make-up when I confided in you that I was afraid you weren't going to love me as much as I would love you. I never meant for the foretelling. I never wanted to be right.

1 comment:

lolly said...

overwhelmingly beautiful.