Listen to the Music

Back to December

I turn off the screen of my phone, throwing it across the room so it lands on the couch of my small apartment. He'd told me all about his new life, his family, how busy he'd been, the weather and his work. But he was closed up, and I knew why. It was my fault.

He gave me the world, and I left it to die. Just like the roses in the vase on my kitchen bench right now. It was making my head spin.

I apologised, and it hurt my pride. I killed my pride. I think back to Christmas, back to December. Missing him burns through me, hitting me like a flood of emotions and memories. December was perfect, I always think about December. I'm leaning against the kitchen sink, my long blonde hair falling forward around me as my eyes start to water.

I close my tired eyes for a moment, I hardly sleep anymore. I lay there, remembering myself leaving. Ending everything. April brought his birthday around, and I was going to call, but I never did. I always remember the summer, long hair, sunglasses, floppy hats and road trips. And then the fall, when I realised I loved him.

I think of January, when it started to go downhill. I thought it wasn't real, I thought he wasn't real, and fear was creeping into my every thought. I remember his kind, reassuring words. Right before I said goodbye.

I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Its the only thought that crosses my mind. I sink to floor as the missing him crashes over me like a tsunami. It crushes me and I gasp for air, lifting my damp cheeks up to the roof. I wish I realized how I'd felt before it was too late. If I could go back to December, I'd change it all, make it alright. I can't stop think of December, when everything was fine.

I miss his tanned skin, and the smile I always put on his face. He was always so good to me, the perfect gentleman, so right. As the tears run down my face, I can still feel his arms around me, last September, as I caved into his chest.

If I got a second chance, I'd love him right.

I'd try and change it, but if he locked me out, I guess I'd understand.

It turns out letting him go isn't anything but missing him, wishing he'd come back.

I only ever think of December now, wishing I'd realised what I had with him. I wish I could turn around and change every decision I ever made, but I cant. So I just go back to December all the time.