I know it was my fault.
I wish I could have done things differently.
It’s been months now, since you’ve been gone.
I just want to see you again.
I want to hold you and tell you
I love you more than anyone has ever loved another person.
I want you to know
that I made the wrong choice for the right reasons.
I made a promise I had to keep.
But I wish I would have broken it.
Who knows what would have happened if I had?
Maybe you would have done what you did sooner.
Maybe we would have split up and hated each other in time,
but you would still be alive.
But I believe we would have loved each other forever.
I think about what might have been all the time.
You would have stayed clean; you were doing so good.
I would have made you so happy you wouldn’t have needed anything else.
I’d have been a good girl for you.
You would have given me children,
a little bald baby that we would have loved so much.
You’d have been a good father.
I sometimes see a little girl with long red hair,
about five or six,
who would have been the apple of your eye.
She would have been a daddy’s girl through and through.
And you and I could have watched her grow together.
You’d threaten boys that wanted to date her.
You’d have given her away on her wedding day
And tried not to cry because I know
you felt so much.
You’d have seen your grandchildren and been so proud
of our little girl and how she’d turned out to be.
You and I could have grown old together
and sat on the front porch holding hands
and watching the sun go down
and we would have been content and happy to our last breaths.
But I thought I couldn’t go with you,
and now I will live my life alone, in a way,
knowing that no one will ever love me like you did.
I will have this regret on my shoulders everyday until I die.
I want to be so mad at your for taking away your life…
it seems like it would be easier.
You took mine along with you, you know.
You stole our life together
and it was cruel
and most days
I don’t think I can bear to go on without you.
And I won’t do to the people around me
what you did to me and all the others who loved you,
but I feel dead inside when I think about it.
I can’t go for more than a few minutes at a time
without thinking of you,
without thinking of how it used to be with us.
I think about the things you used to say to me,
sometimes so stupid and silly and funny,
and I can still smile a little.
Or I think about the times you were an ass,
because you, of course, could be such an amazing asshole sometimes,
doing stupid things for the sake of something to do.
But mostly, I think about the kind words.
The words you said to me that made me feel,
for the first time in my life,
pretty and sexy and wanted.
The words that made me feel loved and let me know that,
no matter what anyone had ever told me,
I was lovable, I was enough.
I think about those things
and know that I will never feel like that ever again.
I will never believe that I am any of those things ever again,
because who can I trust to tell me the truth now that you’re gone?
Who will never lie to me like you never lied,
whether I wanted to hear it or denied it or got mad?
Who will do the things you did for me or to me or with me?
I think about the sneaky things you did, we did:
The time you made me cut your hair.
How you pressed yourself close to me to get past me to the mirror,
when you didn’t need to.
The sounds that you made when I ran my hands through your hair
to see if I had missed a spot
and the feelings I got somewhere deep inside
that nobody but you had ever given me.
I think about the first time you kissed me:
I walked around the corner into the kitchen
and you ambushed me and I never saw it coming.
You kissed me so hard and with so much passion
that I couldn’t do anything but think how much I had wanted you to kiss me.
I think about when you held my face in your hands
and looked at me so long
and told me I was beautiful
and that you wanted me for yours
and you pulled me in and kissed me so sweetly.
I think about you too much.
Do you remember the way,
when he was driving us somewhere,
me in the front seat, you in the back,
when it was too dark for him to see,
how you would put your hand between the seat and the door
and rub your fingers up and down my arm absentmindedly
like it comforted you?
And if I was in back and you had the front,
how you would slowly reach behind you
and hold my hand in yours till we got too close
to where we were going to chance it?
Can you recall now, wherever you are,
how at restaurants you’d touch me under the table?
How when we were back in the car,
you’d do the same thing all the way home,
like you never wanted to stop touching me?
I don’t know if you know anything now.
I can recall still the way you said my name the day you told me you loved me.
I can remember your face the day you asked me to leave him
and to spend my life belonging to you instead
and how it changed when I said I couldn’t.
I was trying to be strong.
I was trying to do what was right.
It wasn’t what I wanted.
I remember what you told me then,
that if I ever changed my mind to call you
and you would come get me any time I needed you.
You loved me.
You wanted to protect me.
Well I need you now.
I’ve changed my mind.
I want you to come back to me.
I want you to be with me forever
and never leave me again.
I want to be yours.
I don’t know where you are now.
I don’t know what happens or if you are no where at all.
But, if you can, come back to me.
Come back to me.
And if you can’t come back,
but you can hear me,
then forgive me.
Forgive me, if you can,
for making the wrong choice that night.
Forgive me for taking our life together away.
Forgive me for not being what you needed me to be.
Forgive me for saying I didn’t care.
I always cared. I still do. I will never stop.
Forgive me for not seeing something different about you.
Forgive me for not knowing something was wrong.
Forgive me for not hugging you good bye that last day I saw you.
Please forgive me.
But, if you can, come back to me.
So we don’t have to say good bye forever.
So we don’t have to miss each other,
if you can miss me.
I am so alone without you.
Come back to me.