All of the things I chose to forget. The things I overlooked on purpose. The things I accepted.
That’s what you do. You love the best of someone and you love the worst of someone. It’s an unconditional love.
Then the scales begin to tip. The blinders come off. The relationship you thought you were in slowly morphs into some strange unrecognizable existence. It isn’t what you signed up for, so you readjust. Over and over and over. Until you can’t do it anymore.
I couldn’t do it.
And in the beginning of the end I could see the why of it. The why of the end. But time made those things blur.
It’s been a year now. I have gone from feeling good about my decision to end things to wishing desperately that I hadn’t. Recently I’ve looked back on my relationship with rose colored glasses because I needed to.
He is suddenly back again. I picked him up from the bus station looking at him with those glasses firmly in place.
I’m a fool.
I can’t go backwards. I took those glasses off.
I remember now why we didn’t work.
I spent months and months wishing he was here, wishing we’d have worked out. Wishing I could put my collar back on and be his again. I’m grateful whatever is inside me made me not take that step. That step backwards.
He isn’t the man I’m supposed to be with. He isn’t the one. I remember now.