I am always wondering how different life would have been if I did not wait for you in that stairwell, if you had been too drunk to go to the outing, if I we did not begin chatting, if we weren’t so careless we decided to look first before taking a leap.
But I guess, like many things in my life, I cannot go back nor can I move forward and leave these all behind… or atleast, what remains of my broken, battered heart.
In the deepest, most obscure part of my heart, I am half-wishing half-begging for a sign, for a leap of faith, for some incandescent hope to tell me I belong here… to tell me that I belong with you.
I wanted to shout at you at times… for all the pain and the tears. And yet at just about the same time I want to clobber your head with a hammer, I also want to hug you and own you even for an infinitesimal moment in time. I want to feel, for even a fraction of a second, that we belong with each other, and that this is our time, our moment.
At times like this, I want to kneel in front of you, seize the hems of your pants and beg you to take the pain away, to vanquish the fears, to curb that irresistible urge to walk away.
I want you to ask me to stay.
And yet in my heart, and in my soul, I know we are much too alike to keep this, to nurture it, to make it happen.
And that knowledge, that inconceivable, deplorable thought is the poison that kills me at night.
I am always wondering how different life would have been if I did not wait for you in that stairwell, if you had been too drunk to go to the outing, if I we did not begin chatting, if we weren’t so careless we decided to look first before taking a leap.
But I guess, like many things in my life, I cannot go back nor can I move forward and leave these all behind… or atleast, what remains of my broken, battered heart.
In the deepest, most obscure part of my heart, I am half-wishing half-begging for a sign, for a leap of faith, for some incandescent hope to tell me I belong here… to tell me that I belong with you.
I wanted to shout at you at times… for all the pain and the tears. And yet at just about the same time I want to clobber your head with a hammer, I also want to hug you and own you even for an infinitesimal moment in time. I want to feel, for even a fraction of a second, that we belong with each other, and that this is our time, our moment.
At times like this, I want to kneel in front of you, seize the hems of your pants and beg you to take the pain away, to vanquish the fears, to curb that irresistible urge to walk away.
I want you to ask me to stay.
And yet in my heart, and in my soul, I know we are much too alike to keep this, to nurture it, to make it happen.
And that knowledge, that inconceivable, deplorable thought is the poison that kills me at night.
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