Right to Wrong to Right

How to be right when all you feel is wrong?

Wanting it all figured out without having any idea which way to turn,

Which way will work? Which way will make me feel whole? Why do I feel like whichever decision made is always going to unfold?

Used to it I suppose,

the wrong, the pain,

used to the moments of sadness until they are all gone for the day.

Not used to the smiles,

not used to the laughs,

not used to the moments that everyone parades past.

Wanting more, then wanting less, then wanting it all in a bed full of mess.

Having second thoughts, third thoughts,

and zillions more thoughts,

late at night when insomnia sets in,

late at night when I remember your scent.

Listening out to the hum of your chest,

feeling your quiet breath on my neck.

Reminiscing how this never infuriated me, but how it always endeared me truly.

Before you, I hated it so much,

I hated the annoyance of someone else's touch,

you helped me through lots,

the trauma, the hurt, you never asked questions or over-dug into the dirt.

You were patient and supportive,

you were kind and encouraging,

you welcomed me as me, the crying dysfunctional being taking up space on your sofa, off-loading all the feelings,

you welcomed me for all my baggage, for the mess and the upset,

you saw I could be more than I was, then let me grow and build,

you let me get stronger with my words,

you let me argue, and fight and scream,

you let me live with you, without you and all the parts in between,

so much so that you let me leave.

Again, and again. Over and over. Like a cycle of life, until it just stopped.

It stopped cycling. The bike no longer sturdy, the handles failing to steer.

The wheels stopped. The rust started. The divide grew. The end neared.