this time last year...

July 2021

I thought things were changing.

I thought possibilities were falling into place before my eyes.

That maybe, just maybe, we could try us on for size.

You spoke in decisions.

You wanted to see how our lives might move together.

Expressed good intentions as easy as breathing

Gave me no reason to not trust you.

But really it was blind narcissism wanting its ego stroked

Too aroused to tell me “never mind”

Too intoxicated to be honest

Too deliciously paralyzed to move my unsuspecting hand away.

Maybe I’m still mourning the wasted time and energy. 

Maybe I still hate myself for opening up so easily. 

Maybe I wish I was incapable of feeling anything unless it’s the right place, 

right time, 

my person. 

Maybe the bitter taste is still rolling around on my tongue. 

Maybe I still hear us saying things we never should’ve.

If I let myself ponder for even a second, these maybes melt into yeses.

I wish I could say that I’ve put my guard up. 

I’ve wanted to. 

But I’ve learned I’m incapable of doing so. 

Maybe I’ll always be the person who could envision so many “happily ever” avenues after just one interaction. 

If that’s the case, please know I didn’t choose it.

If it were up to me, that month would not exist. 

We’d just talk as friends like we did before, continue on like that after, and never take that detour to go There.

“There” ruined everything.