Another year

The fears are more real than they have ever been before, without actually being a reality. The reality is more real than the fears themselves. The dreams are nightmares in disguise. The empty, hollow, loneliness is so cold and real right now, that I don’t even know what I want, or why.

What if you knew now what you didn’t know then?

What if I had the answers to then, what if I had the answers to now? What if I could have done something just slightly different and saved on an eternity of sorrow and sadness that follows me with a gray cloud above.

I don’t ever expect to make sense.

I just want to know why. Still. Why nine years ago I said “I do” when really, I didn’t mean any of it.


Why nine years ago SHE said “I do.” To someone like me.

If she knew the outcome, would she have said yes? Would I have said yes?

Would it have been different?

Another year, and Im looking back. Holding onto the darkening memories of her. Wishing to be who I was then, and not who I am now. Forever changed, forever wondering.

Another year has come and gone and nothing more has changed. Im still here. Wishing…WISHING…WISHING. That somehow, with all the wishing, and hoping, and wanting, and pleading…that things would be different next year. That maybe next year…

It wouldn’t be so bleak and empty and cold.

Im sorry…for not understanding. For not knowing. For living like there WAS a tomorrow. For thinking I had a lifetime. Im sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry.


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