[I believe it was a sin 

To do you in the way I did you in]

Words the deep recesses of my subconscious hope you speak to yourself. Words I know you don’t, but that bruised part of me still holds out hope. Some of it was accidental, unintentional, thoughtless, careless but at some point, it became intentional. I know it did, and so do you.

I couldn’t stop it 

Coming from afar 

It started out so bold, blazing, uncompromising, unquestioning, undeniable. A force, a feeling, a passion that strong you don’t stop to question it – you trust in its ferocity. You don’t pause to question the logic of that. The fact that it’s basically the equivalent of a train careening off the tracks, sparks fly as metal grinds against metal, speeding up in its chaos – its not a result of something being right, or on track – it’s literally the exact opposite. But passion is a fucking beautiful master manipulator, so off the tracks you go. Together, fueling each other, mistaking the sparks for some romantic electricity instead of the more likely warning signs that they really are. That kind of wild, unhinged course isn’t realistic though. At some point, signs of wear and tear begin to show. The sparks that used to fly from the wild attraction of metal to metal start to fizzle until they’re all but gone. The grinding has finally caused a groove, a rut. By the time this happens.. it’s too late. Too late to change course, too late to undo. Bits and pieces start to crumble. Words go unspoken. It’s not what it once was. The thing we thought was eternal, has proved us wrong.

[I took out more than I put in 

I got fat while you stayed thin ]

More words I comfort myself with, telling myself you made this recognition. Everything in life is comes down to balance. If you don’t have balance you can’t expect to continue forward, at least not in a positive way. Things unbalanced put more pressure, strain, hardship on one part, one person and it’s only a matter of time before that added weight takes its toll. I was to blame (in part). I know this. I’ve accepted this much. A person that continually, silently bears the brunt of the burden – in your silence you perpetuate the pattern, you accept the burden by not speaking out against it. I cried, I screamed. You shouted, and then laughed. That laugh, one of the cruelest sounds I have ever heard. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to let go of, to once and for all silence the way it echoes in my memories. A sound that had brought me so much joy, so much pleasure now flung at me like the drunken dagger it was intended to be. It was my fault, my fault for fooling myself into thinking that change would actually occur.

If you want to start a fight 

We can get loaded on the things that I cannot change 

It got to the point where your stubborn desire not to change became a sort of trophy, a point of pride. It didn’t matter that I told you it was the one thing that would destroy us, the one thing that would make me leave. In fucking 20/20 hindsight though I realize that those words probably fell on deaf ears. There’s a sadness that comes with that type of realization. A deep and profound sadness. It’s like when you press the point of an ink pen into paper and just hold it there while the ink bleeds out, wider and wider, spreading to further edges, slow and creeping. Once you’ve reached that point, that point of realization, acknowledgment, you can’t go back. It’s like the proverbial opening of pandora’s box. Trying to put that darkness back into the box would be like trying to turn smoke back into the thing which fueled the fire from which it rose – it can’t be done. Now the only thing to do is face it. You’ve begged to talk, you’ve cried, pleaded and screamed, it’s a futile effort. Now all the things that were never said have been said, and it’s sad, because it’s too late. What’s done is done. It’s time to reconcile, try to forgive, release and renew that deep inner part of yourself that had been starved for so long.

Every now and then I’m in this place 

It’s hell even when I need your face 

You slowly come to terms with the fact that you didn’t arrive at this place overnight and you won’t be able to leave it by means of some magical express. You’re not even really sure how you got to where you are, all you know is that it’s time to leave this place, this person you’ve become. So you do. Underneath all the hurt, and the pain, you find there is strength. It’s always been there. Lying dormant, waiting to hear the call, when it knows you’re finally ready to accept it, embrace it, act on it. Sweet and soft memories will come, as they always do upon saying goodbye. When that realization hits, that it’s the end of the thing you once thought had no ending, the fights, and the hurt aren’t the ghosts that come flooding in – that would be too easy. No, it’s the sweet and soft ones that come whispering in, testing you, seeing if you fold, back out, give in and bend to your all ways, your old deceit and denial. No, what’s done is done. One day you’ll be able to look back at that place, remember the good and bad, and appreciate it all. Because one day you will find yourself in a better place. A place you never could have imagined. A place that seems lightyears away from where you once stood. It will take time. The memories of sins, like wounds, fade slowly and maybe they even scar but what’s left is a reminder of lessons learned, strength, independence and determination.

You sinned, I sinned. It was a sin, but in the end? Oh, the sweetness that has come from it…

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