I dont know how else to say

I’m drunk off the wine I took from your house so you wouldn’t drink too much when I left 

And I held the bottle in the Uber on my way home which was silent 

I thought about that time in college I Ubered home crying and drunk knowing that he had said things I couldn’t forgive 

But even then in that moment, I wondered what he would say about me now

He was never fiercely protective

But I thought about the way you grabbed my wrist and the way my nail broke and how I was the one apologizing 

It made me feel like a child again in all the ways and I know you know what I mean

Because I can still see your regret leaning against the kitchen sink 

I can see perhaps a thought of your mother

In the same way I had one of mine 

And I’ve already forgiven you in the way I’ve forgiven every man I’ve loved 

I’m still detangling the ways my mother loved and was loved 

I’m still grieving my childhood self and teenage self and college self

Once he told me, “I say things that hurt you because I just love you so much, don’t you understand?”

And even though I did understand then like I do now I said “No I do not, because I would never love you this way.”

And somehow both sentiments are true.

In the same way I held your face and asked you to come back and remember that it was me.

But you were no longer the little boy riding his bike down the street just waiting for his school to disappear,

And I wasn’t the little girl who never cried when she fell down and scraped her knees.

Maybe we’re just a cumulation of all our childhood wounds and teenage rebellion and parental shadows.

I dont know what else to say,

But really I couldn’t say it anyway even if I did.