Texts from Last Night

I love you. I miss you but I don’t want you back. Not being friends is hard. Maybe we could work if we tried again. 

Maybe we unraveled again because we had too many loose threads. Too many secrets, too many people, not enough of “I’ll try.” “I’ll trust you. We’ll work it out. I’ll fight for you. We’ll make it.” 

We ran out of steam standing at the front line baring our battle wounds. We were hurt but we couldn’t even touch each other.
We couldn’t even recall what happened.

What did I do wrong?  I imagined you’d ask and I would silently shake my head from side to side threatening to shut down, I’d resort to sleep mode.

If you can’t figure it out, why should I tell you? You could never figure out your faults but to be fair, I just all out avoided them for over five years. “We can work through this,” I’d tell myself. I hated giving up.

“We” always felt like me though. I was doing most of the crying and forgiving. It was exhausting and that sir is why I have no more fight in me.

Fixing us would’ve been like picking up shards of broken glass and ignoring the cuts on my fingers along the way. & after all that, the picture would still show every flaw, every explosion, and imperfection we had. You can’t put a Band Aid on a battle wound.

We’d still be broken even after we were fixed.