i want to be the one who got away
not the one you got away from
this slow painful descent down the
stairs of I Drove Him Away
into the cellar of It Was All My Fault
hasn't done much for my confidence
especially considering that at the beginning
i was the catch and you--
you were the leap of faith.
i never quite understood when it changed.
when my upper hand switched positions;
feeling like i was charting our course
to suddenly plummeting
to the depths of the ocean with a cinderblock
tied to my feet (already miles below the surface)
and you were merely glancing down at the water
absentmindedly wondering:
where did those bubbles come from?
i want to be the one who got away
not the one you got away from
and even as those in my life whose opinions
i value so deeply
told me again and again and again and again
let it go.
you can do better.
look at the state he left you in.
why would you want him back?
and even as i tried to tell this to myself
drowning in the blankets of my bed
barely able to gasp for air amidst the waves of my misery,
i didn't believe it.
not because i didn't recognize the certain
incompatiblities between us. and not because i truly feel that
you are the only person who could ever make me happy.
(because i see how in many ways you cannot make me happy
and how you already did not make me happy.
how you in fact made me unhappy.
the unhappiest i have ever been and could imagine being)
but because to me it is not fair
to go from being absolutely adored
to being merely tolerated.
to go from being the sunlight through the clouds
to being a begrudged obligation.
something now that hurts me more than i thought possible.
(feeling like i am merely an item to be checked off a list)
(at the same time, i think to myself
of all the moments that were perfect and eternal.
the way that we seemed to understand each other
and together be--what anyone wants to be with someone else--better people)
was that not real?
maybe i knew all along that
this tumultuous sea of joy and grief
the swells and shallows of bliss and despair
would never last.
but if i did, i did not adequately prepare myself.
hold steady against the lashing wind and driving rain.
and all now i can think of in this storm--
this endless, defeated, uncomparable storm--
is this cadence slowly pounding on the shores of my regrets
i want to be the one who got away
not the one you got away from
