I wish I could see you there.
I wish I could feel your arms around my waist.
I wish I could hear your voice.
There was so much screaming,
so much yelling.
And all that broken glass.
You just stood there,
while we fought.
Not moving.
I could see your tears,
even though they weren't there.
I could feel the tension between us.
But I still stood there screaming,
and yelling,
throwing whatever I found.
But you never yelled back.
I couldn't take it,
I grabbed by keys and left.
Through the window I could still see you still standing there.
I drove.
A few hours later I checked my phone.
Why?
Was I hoping you'd call?
There was one message, it said:
My dear,
I'm sorry, it's all my fault you were sad.
You were so angry at me.... I'm so so sorry.
I'm sorry for what I did.
I shall take my leave now...
so now you can finally be happy.
Goodbye..... my love.
<Click>
I knew what it meant.
When I finally got to the house it was to late.
You had left me... forever.
The blood,
the glass,
it was my fault too.
I kneeled beside you,
replaying your message over and over
just to hear your voice.
Why does it have to be to late...
to take it all back?
***This didn't really happen, just wanted to write it.
