Anger. Hurt. Pain.
Those have been the phases since Friday.
We will talk about it. I will forgive you. Because the pain of being apart from you is more than I can take.
But will I forget that you have not fought for me?
Maybe I’m a dreamer who believes in fairytales and watched one Rom-Com too many. Maybe I’m a drama queen. Maybe I’m just a woman. But if the roles were reversed, I’d have fought for you. I’d have come at you with guns blazing, not taking no for an answer.
“I don’t think I’m ready to deal with this yet“
Bullshit. I’d have called your bluff and forced you to deal. My pride that means a lot to me would’ve meant nothing to me before the beauty that is you; that is us.
I’d have peppered your phone with calls and all forms of messages at regular intervals till you turned it off or blocked my number. Then I would’ve called everyone around you to hand you their phone till you chased them away.
Then I’d come to you. I’d find you wherever you were. I’d have come to your house, church…wherever.
I’d have said:
Not because missing you was hurting me.
Not because I was in pain.
But because I caused you pain.
“I fucked up.
I love you.
I’ve been such a fucking douche bag.
I’m so sorry.
I hate to see you hurt.
Hate that I’m the cause of it.”
Because you know that at the end of the day, your life as you know it would not be the same without that person. And so you fight. Because you believe. You don’t give them a chance to over think things. You dropped the ball, so you run after it like you’re running for dear life. And you get it, pick it the fuck up and hold it tight. So that before you drop it the next time, you’d remember.
Remember the chase and how out of breath you were. Remember the terrible fear that gripped your entire being when you thought that you may not have caught it. These are the things that you remember.
And that’s how you fight. You come at it with all you’ve got.
I will find you. I will fix this. I will fix myself.
But I wish you would’ve fixed me.