Selfish, yea, maybe.

My mind has been a cruel thing this week. With the fires last week, and the Hughes Fire this week, all I want is to sit and bs in the living room, or on the back deck like we used to. Today (and most of the week) my mind has been kind enough to play (on repeat) the day you broke and yelled at me, sending me home. But it doesn't start with the yelling, it starts with me throwing that metal bracelet at you and walking away. I turned my back on you, to get Jade, but to hide the tears as well, and when I turned back around you were pulling me into your arms. I deserved that day, I've been doing exactly that to myself since the day I sent that bluidy text to Michelle, and I still haven't forgiven myself - probably won't, ever.

But my mind has been kind enough to play that day on repeat, the anger from you, the pain and acceptance from me. But now, for the last day, that stupid speech has been shuffling into that narrative.

“I'm sorry I was married when we met. I'm sorry I wasn't ready for you when we needed each other. I still need you, I'm just not ready yet. I don't want to be ‘just friends’ i like you a little too much for that, but I have to stay where I am. I want to silence those screams in your head that tell you you're alone. I promised you, you weren't anymore, but when it counted most I couldn't keep that word because of older vows. And I'm sorry for that. Sorry such a small word that falls so short of how much I regret not being there this last year when you needed me.

https://open.spotify.com/track/69rSEDWuvLS6yyNcESulCc?si=gXI6fg5IRbat26ZSjLr21w