Sometimes, I see it in my memory. I see the footsteps I took, walking away from all that I held dear, all that held me safe, in the name of self-destruction.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't regret it.
Tracing my fingers over the cards that I took with me, the remnants of birthdays long passed, glancing over the swirls of ink, written in your hand...
I miss you, but you can never know that.
Now that I'm gone, it's hard to say that I regret it—it's hard to admit that I made the wrong decision. And I know I can't go back, so I just... don't. Yet all the while I feel my heart beating in its steady rhythm, longing for the same feelings it used to feel.
Longing for safety, for care, for... you.
And I try to forget sometimes, just as much as I try to remember. It haunts me, in a way, the flashes of your face, of the pain, of the worry, of... of all the things I ran from.
But one foot in front of the other, isn't that what they always say? Isn't that what I always swore to do?
Ironically, I swore that to you, didn't I? Maybe you don't remember, but I can never forget.
I've been trying to forget all these things, yet the one thing I cling to is one of those things. The one thing that keeps me going, keeps me alive, keeps me sane... I try to push it aside.
Does that mean I'm trying to give up?
And sometimes, I think I've seen you, but... that could never be. You wouldn't look for me. We'll never cross paths again.
But sometimes, just as I think I'm doing okay, I see a glimpse of what looks like your hair, I see someone dressed like you used to dress, I talk to someone with eyes that mirror the look that I used to see in yours—the curiosity, the care, the regret, the everything.
Funny how eyes can hold it all and then some.
But when a stranger walked up to me, stance like your own, I told myself to walk away, to flee. I was frozen, lost in memories, lost in longings to retrace my steps and amend my wrongs. And when she spoke to me, I couldn't believe what I heard.
"Hey, someone sent me to come ask if you wanted to sit with them?" The way she shifted screamed of how uncomfortable she was but I lingered anyways, my face creasing with a frown.
"Who?" I dared ask.
Turning, she gestured to a distant small group of people, one member of which was staring directly at us.
It was you, a nervous smile on your face, and the longer I stood there, frozen, the more nervous you looked. "I... I don't know," I mumble, glancing down at my feet. "Don't know what we'd talk about, you know?"
"Maybe you could talk about why they told me to tell you they forgave you?" she suggested softly, and when I looked back up, she was studying me.
"They said that?"
She smiled gently, nodding. "I was supposed to say that first but I uh... wasn't sure how to open with that, so I didn't." After a pause, she added: "sorry."
"No, no, it's okay. I... thank you." Silence stretched between us for a moment before I looked back at you. Now you were talking to your friends, but as I studied you, you glanced back at me, then gestured for me to come over, and that gesture alone allowed me to decide, the heaviness in my body suddenly evaporating.
"You know what," a slow smile spread over my face, "I think I will."
***
I'd Be Lying, The Material
Genre: Rock
Potential Triggers: None
Favorite Lyric: "I'm a wreck when you are gone. I know now that I was wrong. I need you, I need to find you. Come back, come back, come back..."