258 days,

July

I don't know what to say about July, love.
I was so awful to you.
There are things I don't remember about July.
I remember things I told you.
But I don't remember experiencing July.
I turned cold and numb and mean.
I kind of became that old man down the street that won't let the kids
Ride their tricycles down the sidewalk in front of his porch, keeps a gun inside the door.

I turned into such a ****.
And you were traumatized too. I don't know
Why I pretended that what happened in June didn't affect you
As much as it did me.
I guess it was because your parents ****** me

I'm so ******* sorry.
I wish I could take back every syllable I said. Every sound. Every word.
I hope you understand some day. Take all the time you want.
Take years.
Decades...
Chances are,
I'll still think you're beautiful when you're 70 and frail.
I promise, if you'd let me, I'll come back and date you like we're young again.
I love you that much.
That's a promise I'll keep.
I'll never make such broken promises
That I made to you throughout our relationship
Ever, the ****, again.

*July