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To those living with the weight of regret, you are not alone. For there is no life without lessons and no love without loss. Be kind to yourself as the clouds shall clear. This one is for you.
Yet there it is, in the golden hue of his eyes. A promise from him to me.
I’m talking that gravity-defying, soul-defining, epic love story shit. She has that. I want that.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m scared, little man,” he whispers. “Your mama’s avoiding me, and I have no idea what to do about it.”
The quiet is nice, something I’ve missed amid the crazy but at the same time do my best to avoid because quiet brings peace, peace brings thoughts, and all my thoughts roll together in one giant, spiky lump of regret that seems to live in my gut.
“Just so you know,” he begins. “It’s okay not to be okay … even if it’s not for the reason everyone thinks.”
She’s letting me go, I know it. I fucking feel it, and it … hurts. I don’t want to do this. I can’t fucking do this.
“Pretty Little,” I rasp, her mouth the North Star to my broken compass, leading me fucking home.
He was good at that. Taking my ugly life and painting it pretty.
I had a dream, but that dream has changed. It’s not about me and what I want anymore. Or maybe it is. I don’t want a ticket to the top anymore. I want three.
“I’m dead serious. I can’t compete with a ghost, so I won’t,” I promise. “He can keep your heart for all eternity. Just let me hold you for all of mine.”
“Tonight, I’m going to love you,” he promises. “Tomorrow, I’m going to ruin you, and the day after that?” His voice drops ten octaves, and he tugs my lower lip between his teeth. “Baby, the day after that … I’m going to punish you a little.”
