Have the courage to walk away. You have no idea how many times I have told myself this—how many times I have heard other people say this to me. Have the courage to walk away and regain the person I have lost in the process of trying to love someone other than myself. But how do you do that? Tell me how am I supposed to walk away when every fiber of my being still holds on, still longs for your touch, your kiss—when I still linger in the upside-down of our memory.
I have never really admitted to myself how hard it is to walk away because my heart keeps telling me not to. But now I will. The idea of you moving away from me when you’re supposed to be beside me hurts so bad. The thought of you in the arms that aren’t mine makes me question fate and why it insists on knocking me down.
All these tears I cry can’t seem to wash the pain away. After all this time I still look for your face in the callous crowd; I keep on expecting to bump into you somewhere in this small town—I’m willing to make a deal with God if only to get a chance with you. But all I get is radio silence—all I have are drafts of things I want to say to you. That and an undying desire to be the one you get to come home to and to be someone you miss. Things I can’t be.
Tell me how to muster the courage to walk away when I still have a tight grip on the fantasy where you and I are sharing time and space instead of tearing the fabric—to put distance between us. Teach me how to let go, because every time I turn around I keep retracing the steps I took, expecting you to do the same. Sometimes I think it’s much better if you’d tell me you are in love with someone else, shoot my heart down altogether. I think moving on wouldn’t be that hard.
Why? Why aren’t you choosing me? Why can’t you see I can be your refuge, your strength? God, I do not want to be your savior. But give me the oar and I’ll row the boat beside you as you swim out of the misery that has knocked you down; I’ll be there to be your guide. But why? Why can’t you see that?
Tell me how to walk away, because nobody’s supposed to be here. Nobody’s supposed to be standing in the rain to mask the tears falling unbidden. Nobody’s supposed to have wet pillows, to feel stuck when the world continues to carry on like nothing’s happened, nobody’s even supposed to be making bargains in the blind hope that their love wil be reciprocated.
So, tell me, how do I walk away? Because nobody’s supposed to be here.