The Apology

I should’ve known better.

I knew, but I should’ve known better than to trust my own knowledge. I should’ve known what I know now, I should’ve known better. I should’ve known.

That morning I woke up to you was a rare gift. That all the nights I slept sharing your warmth, with my back against your chest and our fingers interlaced, breathing in unbroken rhythm, those nights would never happen again. I had some dim recognition of the value of those moments at the time, but not like this. Now when I try to sleep all I can do, all I can do is back into the wall and pretend its you- but it’s not. It’s a cold, hard wall, and my heart is cold and hard, and that’s how I finally fall asleep each night- cold. I should’ve known better than to get used to your warmth.

Or your laughter. Or your lopsided expression while expertly dodging a topic. Or any or every of every single moment I spent with you, filing them away for future reference because I knew back then too, I’d need to remember you to be happy, I knew. I should’ve known how much I’d need you though. I didn’t, and I should’ve known.

I vastly overestimated myself. Overextended my resources, thinking that I could grow in every direction, stand on my own, but no. I can’t even lie down without shivering, that’s how weak I am. I should’ve known that I couldn’t do this, that I would never get us. Just another, probably the pinnacle on the list of things I asked God for endlessly, but He didn’t see, did He? Just add it to all the things i asked for, I begged for, and never got. I should’ve known I’d never get you. It was always too good to be true. I should’ve known.

And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess, into my mess. Into my mire of what ifs an if onlys, and endlessly professed love that pelts you like unwanted words, and I know it does, I know it annoys you, but I’m weak. I’m so weak, I’ve become so weak. I’ve probably always been this weak- I was just too proud to admit it, but it’s undeniable now. Pride comes before a fall- and I’ve fallen.

I’ve fallen from every image I created. I’ve fallen from every castle I built in the air, and I built a lot of them. I’ve fallen to depths that I didn’t know existed inside my head, and every time I lie down, I’m still falling. Even the sleeping pills don’t help anymore, I just wake up crying in the middle of the night. I think, I think I’ve fallen beyond repair. Like I punched a hole through reality, and fell right through.

And it’s my fault. It’s entirely my fault for assuring you that I could fly. That I walk away unhurt and unscathed, because you warned me all the way, but I didn’t listen. And I hurt you and I hurt myself and all I do is hurt anymore, apparently. Probably it’s that I got a taste of what completion feels, with you, and now, now I’m just empty. I’m greedy and selfish and I wish I’d hoarded more memories, more moments we spent together, for nights like these, empty nights like these. Nights when I wish I could leave you alone and stop getting on your nerves. Nights when I can’t stop wishing that I mattered more, some more, as much as you do to me. Nights when I feel like I should’ve known better than to think you could ever be mine forever, nights like these.

I should’ve known better.

19 thoughts on “The Apology

  1. That was beautiful…your pain was palpable with every word. I even imagined you punching a hole through reality. Angst trapped in your words frightened me within my own relationship.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. chimerapoet says:

    cookie – you play my heart like a cello. this is incredible

    Liked by 2 people

  3. This is very heartfelt.. Liked the repeated sentences.. They make it feel like a one way conversation.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Virginia says:

    Hope makes us not know better. Hope is sometimes my best friend…and at other times, my worst enemy. Or maybe not, but it feels like that. It sucks. It really sucks. When you have something that makes you feels so good and complete…and you know, deep inside, that it’s not…what you hope it is. But you ignore it, and maybe hope that it will become what you want. Hope…uhhh… life would be so much easier without it? But probably so dull too…

    I wished you lived right next door to me so I could come give you a ginormous squeeze every single day…until you got a restraining order on me. The I would send you chocolates until you decided that I wasn’t so bad after all…then we would talk all night long about our troubles over a huge bowl of ice cream… ;p

    <3!!!! And don't you ever forget it!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I really don’t know about hope either. It’s like a weed. It’s poisoning my soil and it refuses to go away, but at the same time it’s the only living thing growing there at all. I really don’t know what to do about it.

      Haha lol, I would LOVE for you to live next to me, can you imagine the shenanigans we would get up to? :p And definitely. We’d probably run our way through the world’s ice cream supply!! :p

      ❤ ❤ (i never could!)

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Ah the times I have ignored my deep knowing,
    A legion of doubts around the humming core
    Where truth is hidden behind fear of the unknown


  6. PapaBear says:

    Great beginning, Cookie. Now apologize to yourself. You are at least this important !!! Hugz…, Big Ones !!!


  7. Ohhh. Dear one, thank you for this! May I reblog it? It is soo deep in its vulnerability that I feel I should ask.

    Hated that I loved it so much 💕


  8. Reblogged this on Charissa's Grace Notes and commented:
    Dear Constance…I was astonished and stunned into stillness by this piece of writing by an amazing poet that I consider in so many ways to be a soul sister. I highly commend her courage, her insight, and her flat out stubbornness which is occasionally her biggest opposition and yet is the bedrock of her being and empowers her to face down things that most human beings never even know are there while she stands watch and witness to them…and chooses not to run.

    I have come to truly love her…I hope you will go to her blog and thoughtfully and tenderly read there…

    I write in braille, inviting you to reach your hand under the heart blankets and feel the bumps there and learn to interpret them and thus know the story…but Cookie just freaking rips that blanket back and grabs your hand and plunges it into the bloody depths and says “take a look if you like…or not”.


    And here, on Christmas Eve…is this not the stuff that would constitute the kind of meal that the Child came to eat? And then to in kind become for us to eat and be healed?

    Blessings to you, SIster Heart and Warrior Mate. I salute you…and I love you.
    Merry Christmas: Charissa


  9. […] her work!! Some of my favorite posts include Aspirations, Within, Dark Mornings, Living By Halves, The Apology, Living Numb, Messages of a Cigarette -XXV- [And many many […]


  10. Madsies says:

    Intense words. Hugs Monstah. ❤


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