‘Don’t let people miss out on you
Because I have to let you go’
And I obeyed.
Eight days and six hours after you left,
I woke up in the middle of the night,
And showered in a strange man’s bathroom.
He had three trimmers, in the colours,
Red, blue and black.
Maybe he liked to colour his woman’s skin in the same.
I left him without an apology, without a goodbye.
Three weeks after that episode,
I met a girl with the same hair colour as yours.
But I couldn’t fall asleep with her,
So I let it pass.
Twelve nights later, your brother called me.
To tell me you died in the line of duty.
And my body refused to hold in the emotions,
I cried. I cried some more, and then accepted things as they were.
Because that’s what you loved me for.
My habit of giving up on people surely attracted you, but not enough to make you stay.
Anne Frank once said that regret is stronger than gratitude.
And I understood just why.
I regretted not waving you that one last goodbye.
Eighteen weeks later, I found myself holding hands again.
Not in prayer or protest, this time in love.
And all I could think of every time I woke up to that face was,
How much it’d pain my chest to bid another goodbye.