Complicated: A collection

What if?

"This could have been us."

You take a sip from your glass so calmly I wonder if you're aware of what you've done. I had tried so hard not to think of that. Think of how close you were to being mine. With this you have crashed into my wall of self-control I built to protect myself from you. I pick up my drink and down the rest, ignoring the burn. I don't tell you the phrase that keeps running through my mind; "it should have been". Instead, I look at you and whisper,

"What?"

You are incredibly arrogant and mean, so I expect nothing less from you then a smart-ass reply.

"You heard me."

I hoped I was wrong. I wished that I had imagined it. No. You are looking at me expectantly, with curiosity in your eyes. You want to know what I think of the words that quite possibly have ruined my life. 

"Yes. It should have been."

I can tell you did not expect me to say that, but I cannot help myself. Your hesitation answers any wistful desires I once had. 

"I'm sorry."

I cannot tell why you are apologizing. Maybe it's because my hand now trembles. Possibly it's the sudden chill I cannot escape. Or perhaps, and I favor this one the most, it's because you can see the sadness in my eyes as I look at you, realizing all of a sudden how very much I love you. I look down, too afraid to see your reaction. 

"For what?"

I hear you standing up. I close my eyes, I do not want to watch you leave. I feel your hand tilt my chin up and my eyes are wide open. You are so close I can smell you. You are intoxicating.

"For everything. For this."

You kiss me then, and I am astonished I do not cry. I can feel that this will only last tonight. This spell that we are under, rewriting history for just a moment. For one second I can feel our future, but it slips away the moment our lips separate. Your eyes flicker all over my face, and suddenly a tear slides down. You wipe it away, and I can feel my heart cracking open. You stand and turn to leave. I grab your hand. 

"This is enough. Mostly."

You laugh and kiss me again, this time a small peck of familiarity. One last swig of your drink and you drift into the night. I am stuck staring at the wall wondering how I will survive the next time I see you. He pulls me out of my stupor by kissing me on the cheek. I am sad all over again, consumed with guilt for not loving the feel of his lips as much as yours. 

"Let's go home."

I wonder if he knows I cannot go home. You are already gone.