Conversations

v.

         “You know, I can’t believe I was so naïve. I mean, I remember you telling me that you wanted to die because no one could ever love you like she loved you, but I didn’t think you truly meant it.”

         “I did.”

         “I know that now, but at the time, I thought it was just one of those silly things we say, you know? Like ‘this cake is to die for’ is just a saying, because no cake is ever worthy of such a thing, but we still say it all the same. There are words and then there are words, and I mistook yours.”

         “All words mean something, even if they’re metaphorical, they still mean something. You can’t just nitpick and choose the words you like and say these matter, while throwing all the others to the side and claiming they don’t just because you say so. That’s not how it works.”

         “You’re right, and maybe if I had just listened more closely, or if I had just traced the scars on your wrists more often than I did, you’d still be around to envelop me in your precious words.”

         “Yeah, maybe, but you didn’t.”

         “Looking back, I probably should have kissed you tighter that day and then hidden all the razor blades, but I am young, and I am naïve, and I’m just so sorry, okay? I am sorry I didn’t listen better.”

         “Stop, this is not something you can apologize for. It’s already over and I’m already dead. You’re talking to a ghost as if I can actually hear your words, but in reality, you’re alone. You were always alone, and now, the only company you will ever have is my words running through your head. And of course, you’d choose now to finally start listening to them, but still never closely enough to actually hear what they’re saying.”