Sometimes, well most of the time, I wish life was black and white. That you always know the right thing to do. That walking away from things would be easy. That emotions were more easily controlled. That it was easier to work through things. That past damage didn’t affect present life so much. That problems and issues were easily fixed. That there was a fine line when you know you have to leave. That breaks were cleaner, and you weren’t left with gaping holes in your body and soul from it.
I wish that when someone says that a person is no good – I can easily believe them instead of saying how I think differently. That when someone says that the hurt will become smaller eventually – that they could fast forward time for me.
I wish when I feel gusts going through the hole in my life, that I can easily pick up the pieces and fill it back up. I could become a mosaic instead of just window.
I wish that once you found something special that you could just hold onto it forever because I know you shouldn’t let once in a lifetime slip away. That it would be easy to walk away from everything I gained, instead of being consumed by the things I could have lost.
I wish I could stand firm, instead of the voice in my head whispering “maybe…” That the pieces of hope that I have with no backing could float away instead of becoming larger. That when I say it’s for real this time, I would actually believe it. That for certain I would be able to say that this is for the better.
I wish I knew what I wanted. That I knew what my next step would be. Instead, I’m falling with no sign of slowing but just heading for the abyss.
I wish I would stop looking at the memories. Waiting for the moment, that I would stop saying only if. Only if he chose to commit. Only if people didn’t break us before. Only if I could turn my anxiety and depression off. Only if he could communicate with his heart. Only if I could get him to see my light, then he would stay. Only if I was enough. Only if he believed he was enough.
I wonder how it will be in the future. That when I see you, I will break or not. That all those adventures I’m missing out on will longer feel like constant stab wounds. That maybe I will stop being a screw-up and things will be okay eventually. Wondering if you ever loved me or was I a fool. Wondering if I could ever find love again.
But I still wish that it didn’t have to be this way. I still wish I could wake up next to you. I still wish we could have worked this out. I still wish that this didn’t have to happen. I still wish I could have hope for us. But it’s slowly dying with every stab.