A Fresh Start
I had a horrible dream last night. He was so close to me, and I almost caught up with him. His friends started hurting me to prevent me from getting to him, but I knew if I could have just gotten him to hear what I had to say, I could have fixed everything. Everything.
I wasn't sure before, but now I know. Yet they still wouldn't let me near him. They wouldn't let him decide for himself, and he kept running, not knowing where he was going. He didn't want to have to decide. I guess it's easier to just avoid the things that have hurt you the most. So he ran. And I stayed, and I cried.
Nothing is the same. Nothing will ever be the same. I have this ridiculous expectation that one day he will walk through my door and say everything is okay. Everything can go back to normal now. Every song can remind me of happy things again, and every tear will be wiped away by his delicate fingers. I picture his face, his smile, his beautiful eyes. I picture them when I'm with other people. I picture them when I'm with other guys. I picture them when I'm at work. I picture them when I'm in class. I picture them at home, and I imagine what it would look like to see him peek his head into my room and say he wants to start over. I feel the excitement of finally seeing him again in the pit of my stomach. Every time, it's met by severe and debilitating disappointment followed by a long period of time where I can do nothing else but sit with the empty outcome of my own bad decisions.
He saved me, and will continue to save me, forever. So where is he now? How could I have pushed away my only angel?
I wasn't sure before, but now I know. Yet they still wouldn't let me near him. They wouldn't let him decide for himself, and he kept running, not knowing where he was going. He didn't want to have to decide. I guess it's easier to just avoid the things that have hurt you the most. So he ran. And I stayed, and I cried.
Nothing is the same. Nothing will ever be the same. I have this ridiculous expectation that one day he will walk through my door and say everything is okay. Everything can go back to normal now. Every song can remind me of happy things again, and every tear will be wiped away by his delicate fingers. I picture his face, his smile, his beautiful eyes. I picture them when I'm with other people. I picture them when I'm with other guys. I picture them when I'm at work. I picture them when I'm in class. I picture them at home, and I imagine what it would look like to see him peek his head into my room and say he wants to start over. I feel the excitement of finally seeing him again in the pit of my stomach. Every time, it's met by severe and debilitating disappointment followed by a long period of time where I can do nothing else but sit with the empty outcome of my own bad decisions.
He saved me, and will continue to save me, forever. So where is he now? How could I have pushed away my only angel?