Hello! Old friend, are you still there?

Sometimes I wonder whether you still think of me. I’m sorry, I’m putting my foot in my mouth just asking such a question. I might as well keep my thoughts of forgiveness to myself.

Sometimes I wonder how you are coping with all these tired towns, full of hostile nights that are permeated with nothing but loneliness. I wonder how you are dealing with all the lies you fed me. I decided to accept them and that’s how I got the gospel truth. Sometimes I wonder how you moved through life with all your soiled skeletons in the closet. I imagine you sitting in that obscure, dejected house with no one else to turn to.

You called me up again just to tear down the walls you put up before, so black-hearted of you to shatter such a perfectly loving heart. You poured salt in my ever bleeding cuts like some kind of savage. I keep on forgetting to forget about you. I’m even scared to say hello because I know there won’t be a goodbye, but rather permanent agony penciled into my ripped heart, like a wine-stained white suit I can’t even wear to my own heartbreak party.

Every time you walk back into my life, you always leave me hanging. I’m busy trying to put all your blurry twisted lines together, but all they add up to is a crying game. It’s like we’re in some kind of saga, we keep on breaking up just to make up again. I wined and dined your mind games, we fell down like dogs playing dead; but you kept on changing the rules and that’s why I’m so mucked up.

Yesterday we were as strong as two walls that never break, today we are just two pieces of a broken heart. Sometimes I wonder how I kept afloat with all the dirt you pushed down my throat, pillow soaked every night. I still can’t believe that I managed to shield myself from the bullets of lies you threw at me. Surprisingly they became my defences, although I’m now covered in scars like a rose without thorns.

It’s no lie that you love yourself more than you could have ever loved me, using your so-called “Pride” to deny you care for me, while it’s written on your face that you still want me back. Every fake smile you crack makes me feel the soil crumbling under my feet, ocean waves burning like fire meeting gasoline.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitter, I just wish we could re-write the end and start all over again. I don’t want to go another day reminiscing about what we had, and thinking about what it could be like if we rekindled things like adults. If you come back in my life, I swear I’ll love you more than the way I did before.

Have you ever wanted to re-write past events? If you could go back and change the way a relationship ended, would you?


Tell us: Have you ever wanted to re-write past events? If you could go back and change the way a relationship ended, would you?