You Again

I dreamed about you again last night.


And now I'm sitting here wondering what it was I did, that would make you invade my dreams.

Have I not thought about you enough?  Have I not fully grieved over what will never be?  Have I not yet let you go?

I guess not.

Why else would you haunt my thoughts day and night?  Why else would my heart begin to beat faster when I think I hear your voice?  Why else would my heart hurt a little bit more when I see pictures of her with you?

We all want what we can't have.

I guess I don't know how to grieve.
I suppose I don't even know what I'm supposed to be grieving.

Is is lack of closure?  Not ever knowing what might have come to be if I wasn't so stupidly oblivious? Thinking I might have had a chance, but now not ever being able to know?

Perhaps I have regrets.
Perhaps I wish I would have heard the undertones in what you said to me.
Perhaps I was a little bit in love with you.

Maybe the things I do now are for you.  In a way, at least.  Being reckless, doing things I wouldn't have ever thought I'd do before, hoping that if you see, if you hear, you'll realise.

(It's like sixth grade all over again.)
(Ugh.)

There's a 100% chance you won't see this.
And that's okay.
Because this is for me, not for you.
This is me screaming out into the void wishing I could change time.
Wishing I could change myself.
Wishing I could change you.

All for the better.

But what is better?
You're happy now.
I know.
I heard you laugh.

And I'm happy you're happy.
Truly.

I guess I only wish you were happy with me.


And, I guess, that will never be.

Okay.
Deep breath.

I will be okay.
I will be okay.
I will be okay.

If I repeat it enough, it'll come true.


...right?