I always wish they wouldn’t have walked away, right before eventually realizing that in the end, who knows just how long I would’ve let them stay? I make him and the one before the bad guys, but with time, even I would’ve had to play a part and who knows which it would’ve been- broken or heart breaker, or is there an in-between?
Maybe I’d turn out to be jealous, or too bossy. Maybe I’d drink the last beer and never replace it and complain every time you forgot the toilet seat up. Who knows, maybe I’d turn bitter; turn into a cantankerous old lady. Maybe I’d lose my dreams and suck the life out of yours. Maybe I’d use you as a distraction and sit at a distance watching you tear down your walls just to later drive a bulldozer right through your heart. I could become a cold-hearted bitch. I could just use your body for pleasure and warmth but never give a damn about undressing your mind. Or worse- your heart.
But maybe, if you had let me, your walls would come down with time, with mine, dissipate in the afterglow of what would become us. Maybe we could’ve grown together. Become better. Inspire the best in each other. Maybe we’d become a pair of the kind of people that hold hands over dinner. And maybe, on more days than not, we’d wake up happy. And maybe part of the reason would’ve been each other.
We could live a life of maybes.
If only I believed in them like I used to.