You call me enigmatic
when you need to label me.
It works for your head and heart
and keeps you safe from blame.
Then my sorrow becomes my own and you leave the table fully satisfied that you have tried your best.
We never play the remember when game that couples of long standing play because our memories are not the same.
There is no time now to create
new memories.
We hoped for that a year ago when
you decided you liked me after all.
And you’re trying to know the person inside me, but it’s become too painful for me to watch you go through the effort.
I know it’s me who hasn’t tried.
It’s my turn to dislike you and I’m
sorry for that.
I'm more sorry for that than you
ever were for disliking me.
You seem to think it’s better because you say it’s better but some things are too broken to be repaired.
It’s as simple as that.
I’m not an enigma.
You should have known that.
