My (Your) World
I don't regret loving you. I don't regret being the person you talk to first in the morning, or the person you talk to last before you go to sleep. I don't regret the fights. I don't regret postponing us. I don't regret the lies I told. I don't regret forgiving you. I don't regret crying. I don't regret letting the skeletons loose. I don't regret meeting you. But I do regret something.
I regret letting my world be your world.
There came a point when I stopped being me and I started being yours. A point when power plays came down to tones and using the word "ya" instead of "you". Control, jealousy, leaving parties early, sleeping late because I don't know how to apologize enough and you don't know how to let go of our past. I've lost all sense of self, even when you think I'm being selfish. I can't remember the last time I left my apartment dressed in something I picked for me.
He likes it when I wear coral, I think. So I wear coral. And I keep at an arm's length around other men. And I sleep alone at night. My loneliest moments are spent waiting for you to call. In the times when I used to occupy my time and hang out with friends. The time when I used to get busy so waiting didn't feel so long. Because I used to think for myself. I used to do what I wanted to do all the time, and you came second. I spend moments with others half-assed while I text message love and miss to you. You're an eternal distraction from me being me.
And I miss me. But when I'm away from you, I miss you. So I can't make my world mine, because when it's mine, you're not in it. I guess this will have to be your world, always and forever. And we both know it will never be called our world. That'd be too easy. And that'd be too democratic to work for our passionate, romantic, jealous ways. Our world wouldn't care about opposite sex friends and waiting five years to have kids. Our world would recognize healthy paces and wait to say I love you until meeting in person. Our world would have started out in person, the way most people start relationships.
And if we called it my world, I'd hate the weight. So it has to be your world. Even if it was originally mine. Because I'm intoxicated by the moments that feel right, in all their wrongness. When I'm yours, and I give up being me.