In that place where your presence was always welcomed you come uninvited. I see your words and I don’t know what to do, so for the first time I do nothing. I let you talk, make your empty apologies and even emptier promises. You’re sorry. You’ve decided to give in and stop trying so hard not to have me in your life. You’re different now. A dozen times I’ve heard you say the exact same thing and a dozen times I’ve been wrong to believe you.
You keep talking, perhaps believing that eventually you’ll wear me down. That there’ll be one thing you say that convinces me you’re telling the truth, that reminds me of how much I do miss you. I see your words and none of them change how I feel. No longer even asking myself, ‘Why now?’ Simply trying to read the hidden meaning, what is it you want? I know that there’s something, you wouldn’t come otherwise.
Then I see the words that frighten me the most. You know. You’ve seen. These words make me pause, only I’m not frightened for myself or for them really, only that you know of them in my life. Your sole purpose to destroy any good that I have been fortunate enough to have, and this, the most good. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself, even if you tried – and we both know you wouldn’t.
I wake to find myself thankful it was just a dream. I have no more words left for you, they’ve all been spent. You’re not welcome here anymore.