آســ★ـــآره

I helped you; it was a mistake.
I became your friend; it was a mistake.
I yelled at you; it was a mistake.
I fell for you; it was a mistake.
I felt jealous of those around you; it was a mistake.
I confessed my love to you; it was a mistake.
I kissed you; it was a mistake.
I held you in my arms; it was a mistake.
I wrote you letters; it was a mistake.
I loved you; it was a mistake.
I came back to you; it was a mistake.

Everything that made me fall in love with you was a mistake.
Everything.
Love. Love. Love.
The one word I hate even to say out loud.
If it didn’t exist, we wouldn’t be trapped in this chaos.

But here’s the bitter truth: even as I call it a mistake,
I can’t let you go.
I can’t forget the warmth of your touch,
the echo of your laughter,
or how your eyes held mine
as if I was the only truth in this world.

Mistakes aren’t supposed to linger,
but you did.
Mistakes aren’t supposed to haunt,
but you do.

Perhaps the real mistake wasn’t loving you.
Perhaps the real mistake was thinking
I could ever move on from you,
or from this love.