Poésie

Nine Wishes

I wish I hadn't acted like nothing could hurt me after my first heartbreak. I wish I hadn't pretended that losing him was painless and that I could move on without grieving the loss of the first love I had ever felt. I wish I hadn't thrown myself into replacing him, all the while acting like I didn't need time to heal, like I didn't need anyone or anything.

I wish I hadn't squashed down the butterflies you made flutter in my tummy. I wish I had admitted that they were there, and that they were growing in strength and fervor. I wish I hadn't been so doubtful I could be happy with you. I wish I had trusted what I knew, somewhere deep down, was the real thing.

I wish I hadn't been so afraid. I was so afraid--afraid that I wasn't good enough for someone as amazing as you, afraid that you would hurt me the way I'd been hurt before, afraid you would get bored of me. I wish I hadn't been terrified out of my mind to let myself love you and let myself be loved back. I didn't think I deserved love.

I wish I had trusted my instincts, because they told me you were right for me and I ignored it. I'd been wrong before, and I thought I was wrong again, but I can see now that I was right about you. Nothing could be more right. How did I ignore the magnet in my chest that pulled me towards you at all times? How did I not realize that that was the sign that it was so right?

I wish I had trusted you. You deserved to be trusted. You still do deserve trust, and love. I wish I had let you read the poems I wrote about you. I wrote dozens. Looking at you felt like writing poems. I wish I had told you that I loved you the first second I realized that it was the truth--that moment when you hugged me in my kitchen.

I wish I had kissed you that Saturday morning on the bus. It was just a dare, but oh God, I wanted to so bad. I wish I had kissed you the next Friday night in my bedroom. You were wearing a dark green Patagonia. I wish I had leaned down into your arms and your scent and kissed you in front of everyone, of all of our friends, unafraid.

I wish I hadn't hidden our relationship. It was that fear again, that stupid fear--I knew that if we told our friends we were in love, it would make it that much more real, and that scared me out of my mind. I admit it, I was a coward. I'm still afraid, to tell you how I feel, that I love you again. I love you again.

I wish I hadn't left. That's what this all boils down to. I'm sorry I got scared. I would give literally anything to go back and time and love you right, because that's what you deserve. You deserve the best love there is. I swear to God, if you came back to me I would love you right.

I wish I had the strength to give you this poem. I'm afraid again. I told you once that I used to write poetry. I promised that someday I would let you read it. The day I get over this fear will be the day I hand you this poem. It's been six months since I admitted my love the first time, and I still write about you. That's got to be proof--you're right for me.

This is not an apology. You told me to stop apologizing. I still don't think I could ever apologize enough. This is a confession, and a plea. Come back to me, and let me love you the right way.