let me tell you something about regret

let me tell you something about being saturated with your thoughts, about being completely above your thresh hold of absorption and trying to desperately figure out how you can get out of it

it's a delicate game between i hope he gets it and he never does, a fine line between texting him at 1am trying to apologize for what you've been doing wrong and realizing he's just a boy and he can't handle that

we cling unflinchingly to the memories of our past until eventually we are tunnel visioned by them, unable to move forward because they are the quicksand in our mind forcing us to stay

and let me tell you about trying to do texts at midnight drunk on the absence of sleep telling them that they surely understand, trying to get closure to the fact that no you are not the only one who feels like this, he feels it too, but it will always be about someone else  

and i could give you countless essays on replaying images of their tears, on wishing that you were never in a ******* hotel corridor spilling your heart out to stain your dress with red memories, red red dark red memories that will always stay there

or the time, perhaps, when you were not freezing because he was there next to you to heat you, because the sound that escaped his speakers were melodies that comforted the both of you through the tidal waves of something larger than you and something able to engulf you with a single blow

but let me tell you how it all ends, how you think you can never go back to the feeling of mistakes when you aren't making any, when you're stuck alone in this big world without talking to anyone because it only causes trouble doesn't it? but it always swings back around and there isn't a cure for it

i could write a million and one essays explaining how i have felt the past two years of my life, how from the moment my thighs were frailer than my wrists to the moment i couldn't fit back into my favourite pair of pants, from the time i first saw all of their brown eyes to the time i last saw them, from the awkward moments in the hall that are filled with void and anger and tension to the moments when i would beg to see them again for just a little bit more, but i have realized that i can never make you get it

the only way to get it is to experience it, and for those of you who understand what i'm talking about, try to get some sleep tonight, try to keep the memories out of your dreams