What If?

The what-if lingers in my mind. With each day that passes the reasons I left become less and less apparent. All I can remember are the good times, surely, I could try again, right? This time I’ll understand, this time I’ll recognize my downfalls, I’ll never fall prey to them again. I believe you must hit rock bottom multiple times before you can truly change. The justification for the pain of growth must be strong and solidified. Regardless I can’t help but think it would be better if I didn’t leave you behind.

I define obsession as the distance between you and a thing, it is the space you fill with all your dreams of what this thing could be. Thus, the more time you spend away from something you love, the more you think only of the good, and perhaps you even romanticize those moments a little bit too. I made the decision, I could always revert it, I could always go back, what if I go back?

I know all the things that went wrong, I know where I lost it all. I wouldn’t let it happen again, I’m sure of it. But how can I guarantee I won’t just return to who I once was? I can’t, and so I must persist.

I have returned to faded relationships tens of times; I have committed to sobriety over a hundred. Each failed attempt at freedom is a reminder of the need to try again. Each adds another memory, subtle motivation, a slightly stronger pull. There must be a transition internally to reject toxicity and this must become deeply engrained.

Having done all this work, I can’t help but think we could have gotten here together. I can’t help but want to return to you and bring you with me on this journey. It is so incredibly narcissistic, but I believe the healing I’ve done could reform our relationship and beyond that, make it flourish. But I also think that of every interaction now, and we ended for a reason, so I must push myself to persist.