The collapsing of a history.

It’s difficult to know sometimes why things happen in your life, or why you like or dislike different stuff. Why do I support my team and not our ‘supposed rivals?’ Why did my best friend get the girl that I thought I’d be with forever? Why do I live in the city that I do? Why am I still working at a job I hate? How are mushrooms even a thing? How come some people wear Yankee caps, but when you stop them and ask their opinion on their current roster, they have no idea what you’re talking about? Fucking with Yankee ‘fans’ will never get old.

In all seriousness, a lot of the time, whether you mean them or not, you make choices. Yes or no, is this a good idea or not? The little decisions are not so important but the big ones definitely are. Fucking decisions, why can’t everything be easy? Take asking the person out that you know you want to be with, and who hopefully wants to be with you. Just another decision to make but one that you’re conscious of. Choose wisely, right?

Someone that you might be proud to stand beside. To be a champion in your eyes.

It’s one of those moments when the noise fades away and the rest of the world is a background and it’s me and you and nothing else. It was almost everything but almost doesn’t count. Or does it?

Sure, at the start, there was a lot of tiptoeing around each other. Not long after, it was like fire and ice crashing into each other. Those early moments of someone new are beyond amazing, she is amazing. Thing is, once things progress and you’re with each other for longer, it’s infinitely better, assuming you’re both doing things right, respecting each other, communicating.

Everyone goes through tough times though, and usually when there was smoke, there was a fucking big bonfire. Problems? There are always problems in every relationship, aren’t there? You wouldn’t care so much if it didn’t hurt badly and you know that you both need to make things right again. Who wants to go to bed with each other on the back of an argument? Always remember that you never have to take back the words that you don’t say.

A day comes though and it’s time to say goodbye. A new home, a new job, a new life, sounds pretty awesome but not on the back of heartbreak. It turns out that some dreams are fragile, some dreams don’t last.

When you spend a lot of time on your own as your thing ends, you wonder about the what if. We make decisions every day about the ones we love, sometimes to the detriment of ourselves, and it’s natural to second guess yourself. It sucks to have a personal cloud in your head where everything stays safe and secure until you need or want to pull it out.

Time away should be cathartic but it’s not, you can still love someone from afar, can’t you? Moving on isn’t an option, lines hadn’t been crossed, they’d been approached, fuck, maybe even stepped on, but never over.

A call comes, but sometimes there’s a difference between hearing something and understanding something. That said, despair is alleviated by a glimpse of hope. It’s time to go back.

The kicker is that just because you suspect something might happen doesn’t mean that it feels any better when it does or doesn’t.It seems that the passage of time never deadens the details or the painful memories that you left behind. Maybe time does help to heal you. Doesn’t it also play with your memories?

It’s all going to work out, isn’t it?

We meet and there are plenty of things to say to her, but inexplicably, there is a complete failure to articulate any of them. There are a million questions but there will be zero answers.

It turns out that there was no need to come back for a walk down memory lane. You don’t want to hear it but at some point, you’re aware that you need to let people go, to let things go. It’s often easier to believe a lie, but what’s the point in lying to yourself if you know what the outcome will be?

A gentle rain kicks in as I trudge away along the pavement alone, I feel my heart fall into my shoes. No point harbouring a grudge though, there is still a life to live, no point on waiting for the truth one second longer than is needed.

Maybe it was a mistake to move, maybe it wasn’t. It’s fine, just life, the good, the bad and the ugly. Never let the last two diminish the importance of the first one, it’s okay to be blindsided. Wincing in pain because it physically hurts to be so close to someone that will never really want what she told me she did isn’t the best feeling ever, but it’ll be okay.

It was the biggest ever bottom of the ninth homer when she chose me but it’s done. It just hurts when you have the ability to remember everything and to not forget anything.

Time to leave again, moving on has to happen. What if she calls again though to tell me that she’s lonely and that she misses me?

Maybe you don’t have to be lonely alone.