hindsight 20/20

you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the first boy you met in college.

you set yourself up for disaster.

you saw how he looked at other girls,

like beautiful ways to pass the time,

not beautiful hearts waiting to

be warmed,

then frozen,

then shattered.

you shouldn’t have kept choosing him,

over and over again,

spinning him on your record player like a springsteen vinyl

that started to skip

and repeat

and get into the same fights,

over and over again.

you shouldn’t have begged for his forgiveness,

when he was the one who craved attention

from others

and therapy from you.

you shouldn’t have given away your heart

so easily

when you knew he was the only one

capable of breaking down your walls,

just to rebuild them

so it was you and him against the world.

you shouldn’t have believed him

when he told you the world

he was hiding you from

was cold and cruel.

you already knew

his coldness and cruelty

would never thaw,

but you wanted to be the one

who could make him

melt.

you should have blocked him out

the moment

he decided that you weren’t good enough,

not pretty enough,

not enough to save him.

you shouldn’t have dyed your hair

in a moment of broken-hearted angst.

you shouldn’t have listened

when he reminded you how good he was

with words,

with kisses,

with everything and nothing colliding at the same time.

you shouldn’t have let him

take you home that night,

breaking every promise you’d ever made

to yourself.

you shouldn’t have listened when he said,

“i love you,”

for the first time.

you knew he was blacked out.

you knew he was going to take back those

fragile, jagged words

the minute he woke

from his foggy reality of affection

and tequila.

you shouldn’t have let him push you to

the edge,

the edge of self-worth,

of desire,

of pain,

of wanting to go on.

he was never going to be the one

who taught you happiness.

he was never going to be the one

that lit up the darkness.

he was the darkness.

you shouldn’t have lost yourself,

thinking he would find you.

you gave him the map to your deepest,

most mystic corners,

showed him the way,

let him take the lead,

pointed him in the direction of your heart

when you knew it wasn’t your heart

that he was there for.

you could have walked,

ran,

sprinted away.

you could have at least tried to crawl.

you were in your own way.

you sabotaged yourself.

you shouldn’t have expected love

from someone who didn’t even love

himself.

but maybe you wanted to prove to yourself

that you weren’t the only unlovable one.

you didn’t deserve what you got,

but you thought you did.

you made a million excuses,

hiding your addiction in plain sight.

you saw what you wanted to see.

and you saw heaven,

when really, the pearly gates were up in flames

and the devil had your name on

his lips.