I Go Back…

Dear Ty…this song always makes me think of you. I’m sorry for that night, and all the ones leading up to it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be “the one” for you…that I was too broken to let you in. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry…for everything.

Always Mine & Never Yours, Messie.

ARTIST: Taylor Swift
TRACK: “Back To December”

I’m so glad you made time to see me.
How’s life?
Tell me, how’s your family?
I haven’t seen them in a while.
You’ve been good. Busier than ever.
We small talk, work and the weather.
Your guard is up and I know why.
‘Cause the last time you saw me,
is still burned in the back of your mind.
You gave me roses and I left them there to die…

So this is me swallowing my pride.
Standing in front of you,
saying I’m sorry for that night.
And I go back to December all the time.
It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you.
Wishing I’d realized what I had when you were mine.
I go back to December, turn around, and make it all right.
I go back to December all the time…

These days, I haven’t been sleeping.
Staying up, playing back myself leaving.
When your birthday passed,
and I didn’t call.
And I think about Summer.
All the beautiful times.
I watched you laughing from the passenger side.
And realized I loved you in the fall.

And then the cold came.
The dark days when fear crept into my mind.
You gave me all your love.
And all I gave you was goodbye.

So this is me swallowing my pride.
Standing in front of you.
Saying I’m sorry for that night.
And I go back to December all the time.
It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you.
Wishing I’d realized what I had when you were mine.
I go back to December, turn around, and change my own mind.
I go back to December all the time.

I miss your tan skin.
Your sweet smile.
So good to me.
So right.
And how you held me in your arms that September night.
The first time you ever saw me cry.
Maybe this is wishful thinking.
Probably mindless dreaming.
If we loved again, I swear I’d love you right.
I’d go back in time and change it, but I can’t.
So if the chain is on your door,
I’ll understand.

But this is me swallowing my pride.
Standing in front of you, saying I’m sorry for that night.
And I go back to December,
turn around and make it all right.
Yeah, I go back to December.

I’ve been bit by the melancholy bug I think. I’ve been missing him lately. I keep thinking about it and going back to that night…wondering if what I did was truly for the best and if I made the right decision. I was so certain at the time, but now I’m not so sure. I can’t help but feel like it was a mistake–my walking away from him. I just feel so lost…like there’s something missing and that something is him.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be free of this. Free from the other one and from all the damage and the hurt that he inflicted upon me. I wonder if it will always be this way…and if I’ll ever trust in and love again. My greatest fear is that I won’t. I’m scared that I’ll never be able to repair the damage…that I’m always going to be this broken. I just want to be happy again. I want to feel something again…anything. I hate feeling this numb all the time. More than anything though, I just want to feel alive again…not just going through the motions like I have been. I hate feeling this jaded and cynical about love and relationships. I hate feeling so helpless and just waiting around for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. For the bottom to fall through and out. I hate feeling like this…like it’s over before anything even started. I hate what I did and how much I hurt him. I never wanted to hurt him, or anyone for that matter. But I did.

God, I’m such a mess. I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself…hindering my own happiness. I really am my own worst enemy…and I hate that, so much. I hate that I couldn’t give him what he wanted…what he deserved. I hate that I wasn’t ready for anything more…and moreover, that I may never be. It’s so damn unfair. I didn’t ask for it to be this way. I didn’t ask to be used and hurt. I didn’t ask to be this broken, or have my life turned upside-down simply because I was young and foolish and too naive to really know better.

I made one mistake. Just one. But do I really deserve to have to pay for that one mistake for the rest of my life? I’m only 25. I shouldn’t have all these regrets and what-ifs, but I do. I shouldn’t have to be this scared or feel this lost and confused. I wish I could make sense of all of this, but I can’t. I wish I could go back and see exactly where it all went wrong. I don’t know what happened or how I could even let it get that far or that bad. I was such an idiot. Such a fool. I’m supposed to be smarter than that. Hell, I know I’m smarter than that. I just don’t get it. I mean, I was smart enough to get myself a full ride into the Ivy Leagues…and yet I wasn’t smart enough to even see it coming. And I should have seen it coming. Hell, there were so many signs and warnings and somehow I managed to ignore them all.

I should have known better than to trust in and let myself be led astray by a pair of twinkling green eyes and such pretty little lines. I should have known that a man like that would bring me nothing but hurt and pain. I should have known better.,,and known that men like that are all alike, They don’t change…they aren’t even capable of it. Hell, I’ve seen it happen time and time again with my mother my whole life. I’ve seen her be swayed by sweet smiles and pretty words and a man’s charm. I’ve seen her fall for it, each and every time, and it inevitably gets her nowhere–EVERY TIME. People have this saying…”that you are what you’ve learned…what you’ve seen” and maybe they’re right. After all, I am my mother’s daughter. And as much as it sickens me to say it, maybe I am just like her. As we all now, children learn by their parents’ example. Obviously, my mother’s example wasn’t exactly the greatest. While I know that I’m an adult and therefore I’m responsible for my own actions–in part, I blame my mother for why I’m so naive and foolish when it comes to the opposite sex. All I’ve ever known was what she showed me. Maybe it’s wrong, but a part of me can’t help but resent her for that. I wish my mother was different. I wish that she had put us kids first while we were growing up, rather than some guy that promised her the world who never actually followed through with that promise. I wish that she’d been around more. That she’d loved us more. More than anything though, I wish that we’d been enough for her. But we never were. I’ve long since given up trying to understand how and why she is the way that she is. She just is…and still is, for that matter.

If you ask me, I think FATE has a pretty sick and twisted sense of humor…throwing all these irony-filled curve balls at us. Like how growing up, I spent years watching her get screwed over by some guy, over and over again. And each time that would happen, we would have to watch her fall apart all over again. I’ve never understood how or why she keeps letting it happen–why she would put herself through that hell, just for some stupid man. But she does. To tell you the truth, I think she does it simply because she’s desperate for love. And I think it’s that desperation that has clouded her judgement to the point where she’s let it consume her. It may sound strange, but I don’t think she even knows how to be alone. I don’t think she even wants to try. Maybe she has Daddy issues or she’s too used to it by now…I don’t know. All I know is that for some reason, she seems to think she needs a man in her life in order for her to be happy, Honestly, I don’t think she even realizes how seriously twisted that is. And it really is. The irony in it all is that I spent all that time and those years resenting her for being how she is–and promising myself that I would never allow myself to become her…when that’s exactly what I’ve done. There’s the irony for ya.

Then again, I guess I should instead say that I used to be that way–that I used to be like her. But I’m not anymore. I did what she never and will never had the nerve to do–I walked away. Granted, it may have taken me awhile, but I did it. It hurt like hell, but I had to do it. It was the only way I could think of to save myself from losing everything. Of losing myself. and everything that makes me…ME. Unlike her, I didn’t fall apart. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to go back for more, like she always does. I actually learned my lesson–albeit the hard away–thank you very much. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve learned that I deserve more. I know better. She, on the other hand, has not. I doubt she ever will, especially seeing how she hasn’t by now.

Unlike my mother, I’m trying. I’m trying to fix my broken parts. I’m trying to be able to trust again. To let people in. I’m trying to believe in love again. To see the glass half full. I’m trying to forgive myself for hurting a really sweet guy…to forgive myself for my mistakes. I’m trying. I’m trying really hard. I am. Which is more than she can say for herself. She’s my mother, but I’m not her. And I don’t want to be. At all. I’m healing and slowly getting back parts of myself that were taken from me and that I lost. It just takes time.



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