Love Story

There were so many things I did.
So many choices I made.
They didn’t seem to affect me
but my thoughts were purely selfish.
I didn’t think about you
or the knife I’d plunged in your back.
The pain it gave you to see me
ruin my life and sell myself
for a fraction of my worth.
It had nothing to do with my independance
and everything to do with my identity.
With every poor choice I made,
I mutated what you had made me,
and made it something else:
What everyone else wanted to see.
On the outside I effortlessly self-destructed.

But in reality,
it took everything I had to put one foot
in front of the other
knowing that I was going the wrong way.
With every twitch of a muscle
the memory of you stabbed my conscience.
It was painfully hard to move.
So scared of looking back and seeing
the painful road I’d taken.
Afraid of my guilty conscience.
Every step of the way,
all I wanted was to turn around.
To kick off the stiletto heels
wipe off the makeup
and run back to where I belonged.
Safe with you
wrapped in your arms.

Now I’m farther then I realized.
You seem so distant,
so far away.
Now I’m stuck here
afraid to go back,
unwilling to go forward.
My conscience is impossible to ignore.
Unthinkable to push into oblivion.
The memory of what was
is always standing beside me.
Watching me waste away.
Agonizing as I give and give
give pieces of my identity.
Pieces that can never be recollected
restored, glued back into place.

Here I stand,
staring at a memory
yearning to take but one step
to turn back the clock
and undo all the mistakes.
But still I am afraid.
Scared of rejection, condemnation.
Ashamed of the tatters I wear.
Humiliated by the grime and dirt.
Humbled by the burdens I’ve bound to myself.
The pressures begin to build.
My strength begins to fade.
Everything I’ve built for myself begins to crumble
and the weight is nearly crushing.
The tears begin to build
along with the apology in my soul.

Suddenly I’m falling
through the past,
beyond the mistakes
and into your arms.
Before me lies the road that I’d strayed from.
Behind me, in the distance,
lies the past year and a half.
You stand facing new beginnings,
your back to everything I’d done.
You begin to lead me forward
and contritely I follow,
still glancing behind.
I stammer and stutter
try to get the words out
that had been building up.
My apology, my explanation.
You don’t judge or condescend.

You forget.