All the Things I Wish I Told Her

When laying in bed at night her face comes to mind. She is euphoria, seeing her encapsulating smile could melt your soul. She was there one second and the next she's gone. I wish I could have calmed her nerves, told her it was okay to have these feelings, because all of them were reciprocated. But being scared of rejection, I hid my face and submerged the feelings that were so desperately crawling to come out. You had your shot, why didn't you take it? These thoughts linger in the air constantly, a world where you could have engulfed her in affection and compassion, treating her how she deserved. She might read this thinking there were others, but it was just her, only her and her beauty.

Why couldn't you just pull her in, tell her you cared, you were there for her, you would always be there for her if she needed you, but she doesn't anymore. She found happiness in his lies, lies that will continue to torment her with questions: will he be loyal, can I trust him, has he changed?

She'll get hurt again, but she knows this. She's scared, like the rest of us. We're all scared of being alone, but she doesn't need to be. Everything about her will always give her options, she's perfect. Being alone should not scare her. But getting hurt should, she doesn't deserve the torment that she'll endure.

I constantly recall the times where she would hold me in her arms, and I would watch her cherished the moment for all it was worth, but she was worth more than how I treated her. You should have pulled her in, took in her breath, moving her hands from your breasts to your face, held her in your arms and cherished her like she deserved. You should have bit her lip and pressed yourself against her chest, feeling your hearts beat in unison as gasps filled the room.

When she moved, the wind pushed around her, caressing her in a gentle embrace, you regret not grabbing her hand and choosing her, when only her smile could radiate around the room, she was purely the center of attention.

You’ll always regret not grabbing her hand on the long car rides home. Regretting not pulling her in, to press your lips against hers. Regretting not writing her back, in the weeks when she was so far from home. Perhaps all the little things you could have done, would have been enough to let her see.

I wonder how she'll make her way in the world. Maybe we'll cross paths again at a concert, a museum, in a city, or maybe we won't. I will always miss her. I'll always miss her gentle, dark hair and the inviting kindness she blessed me with. The soft sounds of the acoustic guitar that danced across my mind, all the wonderful things that will always make her, her. Maybe in another life I’ll be the one who gets to make her smile.

But you know that it's not your fault. You had to let go, you can't blame yourself any longer for past mistakes. You'll love her as she was, encased in your memory of her and nothing more, because that's how you'll always choose to remember her.

Explanation

When I originally wrote this, I was only craving her. When I came back a month later, clear minded, I was relieved but also saddened to know that I gave somebody so much power over me. I know that no matter what type of intimate relationship I get myself into, I will always leave some part of myself vulnerable. But the extent of how much I let her control me, in a personal sense, was my own fault. But now going forward I see my mistakes, and I only wish the best for her.