Photo via: Joe Curtin
You weren’t meant to leave…
We were meant to meet again. I was going to be older and more secure. I was going to tell you how much you hurt me, and how much I loved you when I was young. We were meant to drink beer and laugh about how much we used to both want the upper hand, and I was going to tell you how you were a pivotal point in my coming of age story. You were meant to think I was cooler, and be impressed of the person that I had become. We were meant to make love again, like we always did. We were meant to kiss in alleyways and laugh at stupid jokes and I was meant to tell you that you were still disgusting. I was meant to taste cigarette on your lips again, and rest my head on your chest while we lay there in the sun running my hands over every tattoo. We were meant to start texting each other in the early hours again, asking each other to come over. I was meant to tell you that I was sorry that I was so cold the second time, and tell you that when you asked to be my boyfriend that all I wanted to say was yes, but I was scared, scared of how much I cared even then, and scared of being vulnerable. And we were meant to laugh, laugh about how silly that was.
I cant now though, you took your life. And now all my meant tos and meanings are held in my chest, slowly suffocating me.
You weren't meant to leave.
We were meant to meet again. I was going to be older and more secure. I was going to tell you how much you hurt me, and how much I loved you when I was young. We were meant to drink beer and laugh about how much we used to both want the upper hand, and I was going to tell you how you were a pivotal point in my coming of age story. You were meant to think I was cooler, and be impressed of the person that I had become. We were meant to make love again, like we always did. We were meant to kiss in alleyways and laugh at stupid jokes and I was meant to tell you that you were still disgusting. I was meant to taste cigarette on your lips again, and rest my head on your chest while we lay there in the sun running my hands over every tattoo. We were meant to start texting each other in the early hours again, asking each other to come over. I was meant to tell you that I was sorry that I was so cold the second time, and tell you that when you asked to be my boyfriend that all I wanted to say was yes, but I was scared, scared of how much I cared even then, and scared of being vulnerable. And we were meant to laugh, laugh about how silly that was.
I cant now though, you took your life. And now all my meant tos and meanings are held in my chest, slowly suffocating me.
You weren't meant to leave.
