DO YOU WANT THE TRUTH OR SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL?
you wear me out with frustration and heartache and anger
but we wait for the wave just to wash it away
just be, paloma faith
...
When he looks back (which is never) he wonders how they got to now. How they got to this moment, where they can barely look each other in the eye, how they can't talk without anger or arguments or wanting to kill each other. Then he thinks about their youth and he knows. It's just how they are.
...
He never loved her (oh, but he did)
She never loved him (with every fibre of her being)
...
Summer nights, snatched moments. Youthful, happy, laughter. Smiles and happiness and love.
Something never attained again (for either of them, together or apart, not like that)
...
It's a Friday (when she's older, and she thinks about that moment, that's something she always remembers)
There are yells, and tears, and words that cannot be taken back.
(just like always, just like the future)
They are young, but it doesn't hurt to start lifetime habits young.
Hearts are broken. She expects never to see him again (she's wrong)
...
Their little girl has her daddy's eyes.
Pity neither of them are there to see her grow up. Though, then again, they'd probably make the world's worst parents (and, by god, they do)
(but she loves her daughter and so does he; it's just they don't know to show it)
...
Passion, lust, sex - things that people think their relationship revolves around. People think they're why she goes back to him, or he goes back to her, time after time, year after year.
But it's not that simple.
...
The only person she ever loved was him. She pretends it's not the case but, oh, it is.
...
Once, when she was young and foolish and she was curled into his side feeling like she belonged there, she lets her mind idle over what it would feel like to be eighty years old, and still have him to hold at night.
But she was young and foolish, drunk on love, and arguments did away with any hope of a future, soon enough.
...
Once, he saw the ghosts of the girl she was in her face.
She made sure he never saw it again. She was a sign that things could go back to how they once were, and they never could.
(despite how much he wanted it to)
...
They both see other people, marry, move one. But there's always a part of her (deep inside) that thinks that despite that, despite everything, one day they would be together again.
But of course, at heart, she's a fantasist.
...
Their relationship is dysfunctional (to say the least) but there's something that always pulls them back together.
He'd once told her they'd always end up crawling back into bed with each other.
So far, she's found no evidence to prove him wrong.
...
When she wants him, he doesn't want her.
When he wants her, she doesn't want him.
(these days, things are so fucked up she wonders what happened - then she remembers that she's supposed to hate him because he had her heart, all these years, and all he managed to do with was break it even more than it already was)
...
He's got a wife now. That's a first. She always thought that if he ever married (and she never really thought he would) it would be to her. But she married men who weren't him - so what gives her the right to feel angry that he's finally given her a taste of her own medicine?
It feels wrong, like the world's shifted and she's missed it.
...
There's a link between them, something that can never be erased. A child, a girl, grown up now and making mistakes just like her parents.
He wants to protect her, to make things alright, to stop her getting hurt. But he doesn't know how. Things never come out right, and he just seems to hurt her more.
He sees flashes of her mother in her, here and there. It breaks his heart and makes her love her even more all at once every time.
...
She thought that once he had left her, things would go back to how they were, but they never do.
He changes her. It scares her.
...
No one understands her - they think she's selfish, and a bitch and sleeps around and that she's a gold-digger. They think she isn't capable of love.
And the thing is, they're mostly right. She figures that by only looking out for herself, she'll never get hurt (she's wrong), she thinks that if she doesn't let people in, if she hurts them before they hurt her, that her heart will be safe (she's wrong), she thinks money makes her happy (but she's wrong about that, too)
But they're wrong about love.
(she loves him so much it hurts)
...
There are yells and tears and words that can't be taken back.
There are moments shared that remind him just why he fell in love with her in the first place.
There are moments she wishes they never met.
There are moments he hates her with every muscle in his body.
There are moments, for the both of them, where they wish they could be young and foolish and happy, once again.
(but wishing never does any good)
...
Things happen, times move one. Memories fade and the past spirals further and further out of reach.
She wants him back now, more than ever.
It's a pity, then, that she never can.
...
He thinks he loves his wife. She's good for him, not like her, who could never be described as being good for him.
But there's a nagging feeling in the back of his head.
It's the fleeting touch that makes his heart race, and the way she knows him inside out, the way he always has her back even when he doesn't want to and the way that when they're alone memories are always flashing through his mind.
He doesn't feel that way about his wife.
And that's a good thing, right? Because they never make each other happy, and they always self-destruct and fall apart and hurt each other.
But he doesn't feel that way about his wife.
...
He never loved her (oh, but he does)
She never loved him (with every fibre of her being)