It was my plan to grow old with you before I lost you.
You lost me first. Then I took care of myself so that we could build something again. I starting paying more of my own bills, I went to the gym 4 times a week, I walked the dog twice a day on my own, and stopped taking my stress too seriously. Because I wanted to live to see your life. You growing old like a thick vine, still flowering.
I wanted to make love to you, again and again, and feel your strong arms and shoulders lift me up. Sex gets boring, but love does not. It simply gets more intimate.
I wanted to give you small gifts for no reason. I would’ve even given you children if that’s what you wanted from me. I would’ve loved and cared for these children with the rest of my heart that wasn’t reserved for you. I would not have smothered you but instead smothered them with the friendliness of a tiger, burning bright.
I would’ve liked to notice you appreciating other women and remember that I do not own you, or hold you or have you: I am just a train running alongside your tracks. I would’ve like to notice you ignoring other women too, as I do a few moments after a gorgeous man caught my gaze. For we would both remember we have a thing so rare: we are best friends and skilled lovers, both help one another to laugh at ourselves.
I would’ve liked to stare into your window eyes and cry, but I won’t. We spent so many years together only to realize that perhaps all we truly had was a love affair that lasted too long. One that was a casual first date that was drawn out over many years.
I believed in your honesty, your wisdom and your willingness not to understand yourself but to wait. Instead now I know that you were many times just selfish and cowardly in your decisions.
I wanted to dance with you. I wanted you not to laugh at me but instead take my hand and sweep me off my feet into a place we could both be happy. In our relationship we tried to fix one another- making us too tired to dance. Life became stale, our relationship became unstable.
I would’ve liked us to not play games, but rather to be simply honest no matter what. It’s a simple rule: good or bad, happy or sad, talk it out to me and it will be okay. That’s what I did, and that might be what got us this way.
I would’ve liked us to finish that game of Scrabble and wish that I felt comfortable going to trivia at the pub sitting in the tall booth with dear friends, drinking winning beer.
Before I lost you, all I wanted to do was see you again. Walk with you up to the park with the dog. To run into you on the street and flirt with you and have you show me that sheepish grin. To hold your hand because it always feels like the first time and let me forget for a moment that I lost you.
The past is decided. None of this matters. These are just words. I will never grow old with you.