when things were different

I remember when it was the way it was before.

I wonder if you yearn for that time, when you still believed I was better than I actually am. When I was the ideal rather than the disappointment. Do you remember when I first let you down? Was it slow? Was it raining outside?

I remember the first time I wanted to save you. Clinging to a kitchen counter, praying you could hear me through the phone. Praying I could help you with whatever words came out of my mouth.

I worry that I’m close to that same position again. Bargaining with the world, praying the floor doesn’t fall through beneath me. Asking God, or someone, to watch over you, to help you find a way through the dark maze.

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