Life of Regret

If I can’t let you go, will darkness divide?

For the fiction of love is the truth of our lies

We were playing for keeps but we both knew the cost

Now the only way outs in your heart shaped box

The game had been going on far too long, they two of them dancing and playing with each other’s feelings. They were never meant to fall in love, vulnerability wasn’t in the plans. It was always meant to end with one clear winner, someone who would stand above and show the other who was in charge. A final victory.

“This is dangerous.” She said the first time he had pushed her against the wall, body to body, too close to be considered the game anymore. “You’re far too close.”

“And if I wanted to be closer?” His voice was soft, only for her to hear unlike their other verbal battles in which they ensured everyone could hear them.

“Don’t do this to me.” She pushed him back, a finality in the movement that left him shocked before the anger set in, but she had beat him to that emotion, the glistening in her eyes rendering him speechless. “This... We...” She took a deep breath. “I’m finished with your childish games, I am leaving.”

But I hate that it seems you were never enough

We were broken and bleeding but never gave up

And I hate that I made you the enemy

And I hate that your heart was a casualty

Now, I hate that I need you

As he watched her days later, ignoring him he thought of all the times he had caused her pain. Beginning when they were young, pushing each other in the sandbox, scraped knees and torn clothes. A sip of champagne as he wondered when he began to crave her attention in a way that made him despise her, and in turn use despicable means to attain her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, passing him later that night.

“I’ve come to see you of course.” He smirked, hand reaching out to take hers, only for it to be wretched out of his grasp. The simmering anger in her eyes exciting him.

“I told you I was finished with this.” She motioned between them, the force of keeping the venom from her voice making her hand shake. “You can play with whoever you want, and you can do anything you wish, but I am finished.”

“Who said I was finished? You weren’t the only one playing my love.” He didn’t miss the way she flinched when he used the endearment.

“I’m leaving, that’s what this is for.” She turned her shining eyes away from him, tears finally making their way down her cheeks. “I believe it is time to put this farce behind us, and perhaps I can mend the heart you insist on breaking everytime I allow you to have it.”

“Hold on.” He reached out to grab her arm, and this time he was allowed to make contact. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it was never a game for me.” She turned back to him, and the pang in his heart was unfamiliar as he looked at her tear streaked eyes. “I was actually in love with you, and you always let your little whores look down on me, and spit their petty insults and treat me as if I was something worthless for the way I looked to you. And now I am finished, I am no longer your enemy, and I am going to be dead to you.” She removed her arm as soon as his grip was slack and took a deep breath. “You will not see me again.”

As we rest here alone like notes on a page

The finest to compose could not play our pain

With a candle through time, I could still see your ghost

But I can’t close my eyes

For it is there when you haunt me the most

He spent days wandering his apartment, a bottle in hand and more littering the areas around his bed and couch. There was untouched take out in the fridge and a portrait of her on the wall. He’d secretly had it commissioned to give to her on her birthday, when he would confess that he was done with their game and wanted to become serious. It had been weeks since she left, he had gone to the airport to watch her take off; watched her friends give her hugs and teary goodbyes.

He took another swig as he avoided the mirror in the hallway, the dark circles and sunken face only further prolonging his misery as he lamented on how he saw her everytime he closed his eyes. He could imagine her around every corner, hallucinated her bringing him breakfast when he awoke. He couldn’t imagine that anyone else would ever understand what he was feeling as he collapsed on the bed again.

She awoke to wall through the empty halls of her family’s home, the large bed cold besides her own spot and held back the tears as she did every morning. She saved them for when she fell asleep, unread texts taunting her from her inbox. The background she couldn’t bear to change, a time when she had been allowed to take a picture of them.

Her heart hurt as she laid on the silk sheets, the pain in his eyes when she last saw him replaying over and over. But she couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t allow him to harm her any longer. This was best for the both of them.

I hate that it seems you were never enough

We were broken and bleeding but never gave up

And I hope that I stain through your memory

As we echo through time in the melody

Now I hate that I need you

Once he finally managed to make himself leave his apartment, appearing put together and holding the appearance he knew he would need he couldn’t help but continue to see her. In every pointless meeting, in every now faceless brunette that crawled their way into his lap and later his bed. They never mentioned if he called them the wrong name, never gave voice to the thoughts all of society had. He was a broken man chasing a memory that would never return.

She couldn’t take the gentleman’s hand when the notes of the song began. She smiled politely and excused herself, falling apart among the rose while the melody followed and haunted her. She imagined another hand offered to her, a charming grin that she knew was only for her, though he would use a similar one on the women he used to torture her. She gasped as her hands found the thorns on the rose bushes as she fell to the ground. Her dress was ruined, her hands bleeding, and she could only think of the man she had forced herself to leave behind.

“Why can’t I forget about you, why can’t you leave me alone?” She whispered to herself.

And I hear you now when you said it hurt

But it had to fall, fall apart to work

As I see you now in what’s left of me

Is it too late to plead insanity?

He wasn’t sure why he had agreed to come, to watch the woman he couldn’t forget walk down the aisle to another man. He stayed in the back, the woman he had come with gone to help the bride. He’d made it clear he wouldn’t stay long, and she had to prepare to find her own way home. As he waited for the ceremony he examined the decor, thought of how it differed from the perfect wedding she had wanted for them, what she had pitched to them when he had asked what she would want. He noted that the only rose in the hall was the one he had pinned to his shirt, did she even like roses anymore? Was that just another thing of hers that he held on to, like the portrait?

When she walked down the aisle she was surprised to see him, standing in the back. If she wasn't her and he wasn’t him she never would’ve noticed. He wore a navy suit, the same color as her garter, and there was a bright yellow rose in his pocket. She looked down at her bouquet immediately, noting the color of her flowers may have been yellow, but her favorite cheery rose didn’t exist to her anymore. She felt his eyes on her the most of everyone in the hall, but he didn’t offer an objection and she felt her heart break all over again. She looked, when her groom escorted her back down the aisle and saw him leave, a small wave to her before he disappeared.

Cause I hate that it seems you were never enough

Yeah we’re broken and bleeding in the name of love

And I hope that we meet in another life

I hope that we meet in another life

I don’t hate that I need you

He placed the bottle down next to him, sitting at the table on his balcony and imagining for the millionth time what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t chosen to torment her before trying to claim her. If he had told her what she meant to him from the beginning. The skyline mocked him as he imagined what hotel they had chosen for their wedding night. He thought of what he would’ve given to be her groom today instead of the man who’s face he couldn’t remember. He picked up the bottle and held it to the stars.

“Another life, I will treasure you like I should’ve from the very beginning.”

“What is it darling?” Her husband asked, approaching where she stood at the windows looking across the city.

“Nothing.” She turned from the glass and put her arms around his neck. “Just thinking of the possibilities...” Her husband didn’t comment on how he trailed off or ask what possibilities, and she was thankful for that, because her possibilities didn’t include him.