I Never Wanted You

Take out the cork, a bottle of wine, it’ll go straight to the mind.

There’s an interesting point at the end of a relationship in which you’re forced to reevaluate where you actually fall… are you stuck in that symbolic purgatory? Torn between pining for the love lost, or rather do you begin to realize the ridiculousness of the situation and the true feelings begin to pour out?

I was head over heels for her, I would’ve done anything for you, and though I know this isn’t a sentiment that will ever be overlooked, how often was it taken into consideration? I feel as if it was something that was known there would’ve been a slew of action to preserve and fix that which was wrong… then again I am the hapless idealist, and though this is a shift from where you first found me, the point is that throughout this ordeal I was there for everything, no matter what separated us, albeit it time or distance, I was there regardless. I’ve called for your attention, I’ve called for your affection, but consistently I’ve been denied, with little rationalization to support your inaction.

I never wanted you to know how great we could be—I wanted to keep this secret to myself, and hopefully let you in on it, as we went further along, whatever it is we were always doing. I’ll never regret what we’ve done, nor will I ever forget it, however I do find myself at a point wallowing in remorse for how weak it always ends. Never has there been enough respect for me, nor for us to handle our affairs face to face, instead we’ve relied on indirect communication to accomplish our round about trials. Had I ever brought this mess to your door I would have the decency enough to do in person; I suppose it’s just one more thing that has always separated us.