We could have done everything. You say that now, when all ours is gone and when we missed the chance to redeem to one another the way we knew a long time ago while we considered the time to be a non-existent fact because we could control it, but we couldn’t. And now, after all, you say we could have done anything? After all, our attempts to pick up each other’s pieces when we were tearing each other apart and none of us wanted to stop. No, contempt is deep inside our bones, and the fire in us swallows both good and bad. How could we fight the fire?
Now, you’re telling me what we both know, but not through the time before this one, but during a time when we were not paying attention to our faults, weaknesses, and doubts, then, when we were truly committed to one another, happy and stable. We could do anything then. You still don’t understand, I know, but you’re yet telling me what we could have done, what should have happened and what didn’t. So, where were your words turned into actions back then? Where’s the person you were, from that rainy morning, when your eyes were full of life and happiness? You can’t tell me anything now, it’s too late, and I’m sorry, but we’re not us for a long time now.
And, we’re both guilty. There’s no measurement in who’s more and who’s less guilty. Blame matters, because it draws the consequences, it reveals the truths, it makes belated conclusions and reconsidering everything we are. We let this happen. You, to fight spite against mine, I, to fight twice as much. And because of that, be quiet, be quiet about what we cannot return, and extinguishing that fire within me, you no longer need it. Long ago, mine took you. Now, you’re my ashes and dust, and me? I will be your eternal “we could have done it all.“