Do you ever get the feeling when you're talking to someone and suddenly, out of nowhere you get pulled back? Like you're in a car that's stuck in reverse. Taken back in a flash. Not knowing you zone out, the world in front of you stopping for a mild moment and you get sucked into this faded memory, like you're there but not actually living it anymore. Like you're watching your life play ahead of you and you can't do anything to change it. You can't take back the mistakes. The rush of emotions. The way you smile when you remember how happy and free things were. The way you always believed from the bottom of your heart he would always be there for you. Till the very end. And the only question that keeps repeating itself in your head like a siren is where, where did you go wrong? When did everything change? And the next thing you know is that you're trapped. You're stuck rewatching a faded memory, the pain still stinging fresh as if you hadn't just relived the very moment.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who still thinks about him, he wouldn't be the first person who's left us behind. You could be your best self and still not be enough for some people to stay. It's frustrating how dependent you can become to someone whos done nothing but be there for you. How hopeless you can feel to someone whos done nothing but hurt you, yet you still love them. Not because you're insane, no. but because you still believe in them. You still hold onto the silly strand of hope that they'll come back. Someday. Somehow. Now that's what makes you insane. Clasping on to the memories and the empty promises they throw at you, blinding you from reality. Taking down your walls one by one just to laugh at you in your most vulnerable state. Leaving you there to rot just for the heck of it. Never knowing if it's your monsters that scared them away or the fact that they made you into the monster you prayed you would never become.
Feeling an anchor on your chest you realize there's never a way you can move on. it builds character they say, they say it makes you stronger. But what's the point in being strong if all that means is never opening up. What's the strength in building walls when letting yourself open up is scarier? Why do we allow ourselves to be so vulnerable to people who could leave any moment? It makes you hollow. A confused idiot. The pain from a loaded gun could hurt less than what you did to me. And the worst part is that I still care. I still care about your happiness and I still find myself thinking about you. Have I come to accept that you're actually gone? Yah. but then I ask myself. Did I ever actually know you? The real you. The one who made you who you are. Or did I just miss the version you were to me? The way you acted towards me and how you changed faces around others, which version is the real you? Why are you still a mystery to me? Is that why I still ponder about you?