I would have loved to stay there, beside someone who made me feel like there was nothing we couldn't conquer. I'd love to revive what died the night I walked away and threw away any chance we had at being happy together. But I remember what drove us apart and there is no way I can go back to that... No matter how utterly amazing the good parts were.
Sometimes, while wandering through life searching for something more than what we have, we are lucky enough to meet someone who makes the past seem like nothing more than a primer. If the gods are especially giving at any particular moment, that someone can become the one and the journey to everlasting happiness is complete. I'd like to say this story ends with perfect bliss but Happily Ever Afterisn't always in the cards, no matter how hard we fight to make it so.
Years ago, I was in a very happy place. Every puzzle piece was exactly where it belonged. There was nothing I had that merited complaint. Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids. And fools. Touching the sky was such a wondrous prospect - a very real one for a while - that I fought as hard to keep what I had as I did to destroy it. See, while I was with someone who, after so long, became someone I didn't recognize, I thought (foolishly, perhaps) that that big hand on the clock could be forced backward. Unfortunately even though you can move that bad boy back, its never that perfect thing again. And what was once sugary sweet to the tongue become poison to the heart, as small, withered and black as it may be.
I'm not sure the moment everything began dying but I do know the moment I realized it was on its way to the afterlife. Its in the eyes. Not the ones you look into but the ones you see reflected back at you. I saw in their eyes someone who wanted to walk away without even a good bye. But I didn't want to admit that Heaven was tainted. Keep fighting, don't give up... I told myself this every time I came close to packing up and getting the Hell out of there. I was deliriously happy (or maybe just delirious and didn't want to give up in what had, with such ease, made me smile.
But then came that one night, as we lay next to each other yet a million miles apart that I looked over and finally accepted that it was gone. That fire that had burned inside was no more than a cooling ember and I knew, without a doubt, that there was not enough gas to throw on it to make it burst the way it had that first night. Things had already gone so far down hill that there was no way to re-scale that mountain so I did the only thing I had left in me to do.
I gave the kiss of death.
Being with there had been the most amazing time of my life but all that remained between us was words better left never known. Every thing we did together always turned into another war, every place we went was a battlefield. And I was tired of fighting, each other and the inevitable end. So I hoisted up the white flag and bowed out gracefully. And moved on.
It seems, not everyone got the memo. Who knew that It's over doesn't mean what it used to. I recently discovered it can also mean after some time has passed we can, maybe, you know, try again but this time without so much at each other's throatness and just have the good time. Um... No. And that conversation was no easier than the last one. Mostly 'cause I'd love to go back. But we already know what would happen.
And nobody likes repeats... Unless its Buffy the Vampire Slayer; I can watch that over and over until the zombie apocalypse. But watching the me I see in someone's eyes slowly slip back into heart break? No thank you. Still didn't make it easy to say or think and extremely hard as shit to do.
So sitting here, allowing the sting of again saying good bye, though this time before the real heart-tugging parts, I'm wishing it could have gone the way we both wanted. I'm tired of the good byes and the never see you agains. I've had plenty of those moments these last few years and damn it if they don't get any easier.