what's here is gone and back again

The day we parted was not conspicuous. Indeed, it was just as any day; or any day had become after tired conversation turned us both bitter. Maybe you wanted it more. But, surely, I did as well. So it wasn't surprising, nor was it special in any way; we just parted and that was that, and I was maybe a little sad that something I thought was the greatest thing could so quickly collapse on itself, but also glad that it did, in the end, finally, ended. Outside, I was happier for it. I'm sure we both were. After trying to hold it together for so long and failing so spectacularly, maybe we were both glad to see it end. Then again, maybe a part of me resented you letting me go. If that part exists, I didn't feel it at the time. All I could see was that we tried and we failed and I wanted to move on. For definite, the blame was mine as well. For not being stronger, for not being better, for not being all you needed me to be, for not being all I needed me to be, for not having done more, for not having done better, for not being able, and for not being able to be there. I know where I have wronged, and I can admit that, at the end of the day, I was not enough. And you might hate me for that, and I understand, but know that even if you don't, the hate I feel for myself would cut it for us both.

On that day, I know now, a part of me did die.

You're returning now. Not forever but for some time. And on that morning of June when I texted you first, when I texted you and found out, I knew what I did not for so many months before: that I felt so lonely being a part of this world. And all the meaning I thought I had collected in this cold life, of fortune, of glory, of winning, of frenzies, of false euphoria, of meaningless conquers; they all became meaningless. Meaningless because it was not you. I missed you and I have missed you. For so long. I knew that. I knew that I missed you; from all those times I thought about how amazing you smelt, and how elated I felt being in your presence, and your gentle gaze, and your kind touch, and your abundant generosity, and your beautiful voice. I remember it all. I remember them fondly. So yes, I knew I missed you. But on that day only did I realize how much I missed you. On that day only did I truly see how much I missed talking to you. On that day only did I realize that I was so lonely without you. And maybe that's selfish of me. To expect you to acknowledge me. To expect you to acknowledge me when all I did when you demanded to be acknowledged was let go. But the thoughts just flooded my head; not against my will, but I should have known better. The hope that, maybe just for a minute, I could find myself sitting next to you, instead of across from you.

So yes, I do realize how disgusting it is. I do acknowledge that what we had together was just that: something we had. Not anymore. And maybe with this, I can let it go. Finally, truly, let it go. For all those times I thought to myself that we could never be together again, never did I think that it would be your choice after all. Because right at the very last moment, you proved to me that, no, this isn't my choice. This isn't my choice at all. So a toast to tonight. The night I realized that for all the shit I put us through, that I still want us back.