A/N Just an idea I got browsing through iTunes. Enjoy! Song by Snow Patrol, 'Make This Go On Forever.' Summary: "Have you ever let someone you love go? Hurt them? Were too late for your chance to make it better?"
Please don't let this turn into something it's not
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
I can only give you everything I've got
I can't be as sorry as you think I should
But I still love you more than anyone else could
Believe me, if I could, I would go back to the night I screwed everything up.
I would give anything.
If I could, I would have listened to her that day she sat on my bed and told me to go get help. If I could, I wouldn't have let the twitch in my nose seize me for opening the metal knob of the door to curing me. If I could, I would have just let my nerves get to me, instead of snorting two ounces of cocaine. If I could, I wouldn't have just said 'I love you," because I was being selfish. I always wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but how could I? Do you know how much coke I would have to snort to have that much courage?
I would love to have her supple lips on my own. Hear her laugh one more time. Listen to some bitter remark of her's.
But I can't.
But I would give anything to.
All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight
Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right
This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long
Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong
And I really hate this place.
The off-white walls. The oatmeal-colored wall-to-wall carpeting. The fat lady with the knot on the top of her head that greets you, that you can't blame for being fat, because she doesn't move from her chair at the front of the building.
And I kind of feel like her. Not fat in a too-tight white uniform, but because she's confined to her black chair by her computer. She stares out the windows wishing, longing, to run outside and find the girl, or guy in her case, whose heart she broke because she was an idiot. I wish I could put wheels on her chair so she could roll away from her plastic desk with the pictures of her kids and grandchildren. I wish I had a chair with wheels to roll away from my breakfast-colored room and find her.
Because let's face it, I need her. And that's what scares me the most.
And god, I wish I didn't remember the way her face looked when I left. All I can see is her hurt-filled eyes, her quivering bottom lip, and every teardrop that felt down the apple's of her cheeks. I wish I could see her lips curled in her toothy grin and her pearl-white teeth shining.
But I can't, but I would give anything to.
We have got through so much worse than this before
What's so different this time that you can't ignore
You say it is much more than just my last mistake
And we should spend some time apart for both our sakes
I walk out of my room and down the yellow hall, that's the same color as the yolk of an egg with white tile. All I want to think about is how this rehab center has colors of breakfast food everywhere, and why they don't have colors of Lucky Charms anywhere, and why all the sudden I craving Belgium waffles with lot's of syrup, while I eat them with Angie, while Joey is rushing out the door with his briefcase. But I can't, because all I can think about is her, and her fiery red hair curled to perfection draping over her fragile shoulders, and how tiny she was in my arms, and how she always smelled like lavender because of her lotion and perfume, and how she looked hurt, and that vague image of how she used to smile, which I'm sure she hardly ever does, because I've done permanent damage.
And I would give anything for normal colored rugs and walls and her smile.
I head down the brown steps, to the entrance way, to see the fat receptionist there, dutiful as always. "Hello there, Mr. Manning, are you waiting for anybody?"
"No," I answer solemnly. "I just needed to get out of my room,"
"Okay," She says, and returns to her paperwork.
I'm trying to forget about her, so I think about eggs, and which came first, the chicken or the egg, and maybe if the receptionist knows way this hospital is painted the color of breakfast food. "Shirley, do you know why this place is painted the color eggs and oatmeal?"
She gives me a funny look. "Um, no. I guess I never realized that," And she gives me a quick grin.
All I can think now is that I've seen that smile before. I've seen it before on a girl with fiery red hair curled to perfection draping over fragile shoulders, with hurt eyes, and tear-stained cheeks.
I take a mental picture of this woman's smile. But somehow, this picture isn't enough for me. And the tingling sensation in my thighs making me want to run to see her and the fact that my heart is pounding at warp speed isn't making it any easier for me to think about breakfast food. "Have you ever let someone you love go? Hurt them? Were too late for your chance to make it better?"
She gives me the same strange look, that later turns into a reminiscent look. "Yes. His name was Bob. He was the love of my life and that frightened me, because I had given other people my heart and they'd broken it. I didn't want to love him and I didn't want him to love me, so I broke his heart,"
"Do you regret it?"
"With all my heart," Shirley then goes back to her work and tries to push away her regret.
"Do you mind if I leave for a couple of hours? I need to see someone,"
"Sure, sweetie," And with that, I sign out and run out the glass doors, into the world of greens and blues and yellows, where colors like oatmeal and taupe aren't existent. I hop on a train to Toronto and I'm on my way, praying that this train went faster, because who knows when this confidence will fade out.
And I would give anything for it not to.
The last girl and the last reason to make this last for as long as I could
First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything
By the time I get there, I don't know why I think she'll still be at her office, still loving me. But I can't think about that, because thinking distracts me from running with a bouquet of flowers in hand, and running is the only way I can get to her, before my courage runs out.
And I'm in luck, because there she is chewing on her thumb nail. And I can't believe it because there is her fiery red hair curled to perfection draping over fragile shoulders, and I'm thankful I don't see her eyes and cheeks.
"Ellie,"
She looks at me startled. "Craig," She responds in a light, breathy voice, unfamiliar to her own.
"I screwed up," She's waiting for more. "And I'm so sorry," And I can't believe I'm about to breakdown. "But I don't want to forget, regret, anything. I just want to know I did this and said this- I love-" But I don't finish because a male with a strong build and tall frame comes waltzing in and plants a kiss on her lips. She smiles at him with rosy cheeks and bright eyes.
"Craig, this is-" But I'm out the door, because I don't want to know.
At least, I have a mental image of her with her fiery red hair curled to perfection draping over fragile shoulders, her bright hazel eyes, and rosy cheeks.
All I want to do is die. So, I head to lake with bridge and climb onto the bridge and jump into the frigid water, holding my breath, hoping my heart stops so I don't have to feel this pain.
The weight of water, the way you told me to look past everything I had ever learned
The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was love
But she's the reason I'm living, even though she nearly killed me. So I surface for air and crawl out of the water and board a train back, soaking wet.
I'm dripping droplets of water all over the entry way when I return.
"How'd it go?" She asks.
"Not too well,"
"I'm sorry, honey,"
"It'll me alright, I guess," I start to go, but stop, remembering the dripping flowers in my hand. "Did Bob ever get you flowers, Shirley?
"No,"
"Here you go," I say handing her the soaking tulips and daisies.
"Thank you," She says cheerfully with a smile and I really hate her smile now.
I walk away from the desk, up the stairs, down the egg hall, to my oatmeal room. It all seems so dark.
And I don't know where to look
My words just break and melt
Please just save me from this darkness
It was nice seeing all the blues and purples and oranges, but all I crave is crimson.
And I would give anything for it.
Please just save me from this darkness