No one talks about how hard it is to leave
Being the one who walks away
can break a heart just as thoroughly as being left
I should know
I have played both parts of this story

I should not have to feel guilty for choosing me
when you chose yourself long before
This was not selfishness
This was self-preservation 
I won't let myself regret learning how to swim

...

Sometimes I regret not drowning with you;
I wonder what it's like sleeping in a bed of seaweed,
but this is a bad train of thought
and I will not go down this path again
I'm still actively picking me

Some might say I should have taught you to swim as well
or pulled you back to safety,
but we both know I tried
I fought like hell trying to pull you out of that self-made current
Maybe I just wasn't strong enough

I don't know what I'm trying to say
I'm sorry?
I'm not sorry?
The effects of our friendship still have me spluttering on the shore,
coughing up saltwater and unspoken apologies