I was walking home to my house through the snow from the station
when Springsteen came clear in my headphones with a pertinent question
Oh is love really real and can any of us hope for redemption?
Or are we all merely biding our time down to lonely conclusions?

It was winter. It was lonely. Arthur felt like air itself was weighted down by Merlin's absence. He didn't try to stop himself from wondering - 'Does he still love me? Do I still love him?' He couldn't help that his insecurities crept up on him - Merlin wanted him to be better, he willed him to get better. But if Merlin really loved him, then why did he leave?

Darling let me take your hand as I talk you through this,
how loneliness edged into deep seated psychosis

Merlin saw the loneliness in Arthur's eyes. He felt the anxiety in Arthur's touch. The man in front of him was broken, weak - nothing like the prince he knew. He could feel Arthur's fear, so he didn't pull away. He listened, even though he didn't know if he was convinced.

Lying awake in crowded hotel rooms focussed on tape hiss,
with my feelings laid clear on ceiling
I don't think I can do this.
I don't think I can do this.

Arthur felt his hand shaking. This was it. Merlin was sitting in front of him, waiting, listening. This was his last chance and he knew it. He couldn't afford to mess up - he couldn't afford to ruin this. But he was scared, so scared. He'd never felt so naked before, so vulnerable. He'd never told anyone before: his feelings, his emotions. He was raised to bottle them up inside, never to let them show. But here he was, facing the one his heart bled for, and if he didn't lay out his heart open for Merlin, then he might lose everything.
Arthur only wished he had more confidence. This was different than anything he'd ever done before. His whole body trembled with uncertainty; he didn't think he could do this.

I've tried so hard to not turn into my father,
but if I only ever skip out his choices, will I ever choose better?

"You're not like him." Merlin whispered. He watched Arthur closely. Merlin knew Arthur, he believed in him and trusted him. Then why was he so nervous about telling him the truth? Why was he thinking '-but does that really mean you're much better?'

Oh the sad truth is that the grass, it will always seem greener,
So I left you alone in a restaurant in London in winter.
You deserve better.

When Arthur first found out, it was too much to take in at once. It felt as if his life was falling apart, crashing into itself. He couldn't stop himself from thinking "This is Merlin's fault. This is all Merlin's fault." Because if Merlin didn't come into his life, if Merlin didn't move him, if Merlin didn't make him doubt everything he knew, then none of this would have happened. But Merlin did come into his life. And Merlin was waiting for an answer Arthur wasn't ready to give.
Arthur ran out into the cold, favouring the hard snow to the decision Merlin was asking him to make. He tried not to think of Merlin waiting, wondering what was taking so long, disappointment creeping over him when he realizes that Arthur is gone - that Arthur isn't coming back. Thinking of that made Arthur want to weep. His Merlin would never do something like that to him. His Merlin deserved better.

Adam Trask is on my back and in my ears.
And the sound comes clear and brings the awful truth:
I can't stand what I've done to you. It's written clear in my diary:
Today should've been our anniversary.

Arthur tried not to look at the date. Arthur tried not to think of the past. He tried to forget, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't help the guilt crawling up on him. It was biting at his flesh, eating at his bones, and he couldn't stop regretting. He wished it had never happened, he wished he wasn't so stupid. Then maybe today, he would've been celebrating with the one he loved, rather than trying not to fall apart, trying not to give in to the pain.

But I'm far away and I'm far apart, and you're back home with a broken heart,
and love is real and I can't escape:
I only ever have myself to blame.

It really is true what they say, that you don't know what you have until it's gone. Arthur didn't know how much he loved Merlin, how much he needed him in his life, until it was too late. Merlin was in Ealdor, broken-hearted. He wasn't coming back, and it was Arthur's fault. It was all his fault that the one person he really couldn't live without had left him.
Only when the realization that Merlin could be gone forever seeped into Arthur's mind that he realized how much Merlin meant to him. Only then did he realize that each day without Merlin was just a waste of time. Only then did he realize that love is the truest and strongest thing he'd ever felt, and that he'd never be able to escape it.

These failures shift and shake me in the night,
like a fever I can't break, try as I might.

Arthur wasn't eating well. Arthur wasn't sleeping well. It felt as if he was aging fast, though he was still young. It felt as if he was dying. He thought of all the times he let Merlin down. He thought of Merlin's promises of the future, that Arthur will be a stronger, kinder, and better king than any before him. He wondered where it had gone wrong, he wondered why he was the weakest, cruellest and worst king of his time. He hated himself for it. He hated himself for being what he was.
His thoughts, memories and regrets tortured him, keeping him up every night.

Wake me darling, I need you to take me home
But I know that in the end redemption is mine, and mine alone.

Arthur was still trying. He wouldn't let himself give up, even though he felt in the bottom of his heart that without Merlin, it was useless, hopeless. Without Merlin, being better was impossible. So he mounted his horse and headed for Ealdor. He couldn't give up now, not with Merlin's voice in his head, repeating over and over the things Merlin had whispered to him over the years. 'You will be the greatest king of all time. You will be stronger and kinder than any before you.' Arthur rode with a newly found determination, holding on to that voice with all his might.

So if each of us is made up of a tally of mistakes and successes,
then that hour in that restaurant makes my score less than impressive,
but each can be redeemed with the courage with which he confesses.

"I regret it. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Arthur knew he'd made a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. A mistake that made him fall from being the greatest king to being the worst. It was a mistake he couldn't forgive himself for, but he hoped, wished, that if he somehow found the courage to confess his feelings to Merlin, that maybe Merlin would find it in him to forgive.

So darling, I miss you, your music, and your musk and your kisses.
I don't think I can do this.

Arthur held Merlin's hands in his own. He didn't try to stop them from shaking, and he didn't try to hide the pain in his eyes. He focused on just one thing, the most important thing. He needed Merlin to forgive him. He needed Merlin to come back to him. So he looked into Merlin's eyes and tried to find the right words to tell him - to admit how much he missed him. Because Arthur really did miss him - he missed his voice, he missed his scent, and he missed his kisses.
It was almost the hardest thing Arthur had ever tried to do - to admit his feelings, all of his feelings, to show his heart, open, clear, naked and vulnerable to Merlin. He was scared. He didn't think he could do it. But he had to try.