Love letter # 200

Better late than never; isn’t that what they say? Maybe – but there’s a part of me that wishes he’d never worked it out, because now I can’t even blame you.

I used to think – and all of our friends agreed – that it was you who put it to the sword. It was you who lied. You who cheated.

But I look at it now – and I know it wasn’t like that. I was the one who wanted to believe; you never said it was anything. For you, it was only ever a bunch of nights. Bottles of wine, songs we both loved, stars we used to stare at. A fling.

I remember you saying, “Whatever you do, don’t love me.”

I remember thinking, “Surely she’ll change.”

I guess you did – and when you did, you made that call. I told you I understood but all the while I prayed, I schemed – damn it, I even begged. And then I lost it … which is how we ended up here. Which is nowhere.

We might still be running wild if I hadn’t tried to tame you. You wanted someone who would let you fly. You trusted me to be that someone. And now I know I wasn’t.

Maybe it’s good that I know this; it just doesn’t feel like it tonight.

You made it clear, I made it muddy – and when I didn’t get what I wanted I behaved appallingly. So now the only thing left for me to say is sorry.

Anything else would be a lie.

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