I told myself that I didn’t care.
that I didn’t need anymore
that I could look back on the good times
laugh and cry over memories that play like
half hour episodes
with arcs and twists

I told myself that I didn’t care.
but I should have known:
I was doomed from the start

I fled when it got rough
and I can’t help but wonder
if I had only stuck it out
if I had waited just one more year
if I had just been patient,
would the rewards have been that much greater?

patience, a virtue I’ve struggled to capture
one that has always danced just out of my grasp
if I could only close my fingers over it

I would have been in tears by this point,
that is almost a guarantee,
but they would have been cascading
over a spreading smile.

*

and now here I am:
a heart cracked right down the middle
cheeks with salty trails tracing the contours
trying to remember why I left you
why I gave up.

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