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.