Sometimes I torture myself with the what-if's. Mostly I don't. I truly don't do the wouldacouldashoulda thing very often. What's the point in that, right? But lately, what's been torturing me is the what if's about the night I met you. What if I had listened to my instinct that told me to get away fast? What if I hadn't allowed myself to get close enough to smell you, and realize that yours was the only smell I wanted to be close to forever? That chemical was overpowering for me, and has been my downfall. Just like a drug addict, I've become addicted to you. I keep trying to quit, and I have this time I know because now you've quit me, but the withdrawal is the worst pain I've ever felt. I don't know where to put that pain. I squirm like a bug on a pin, but there's no escape. I hear my brain tell me that I made the only choice I could make without completely abandoning even a pretense of self-respect. Even when we talked a couple of weeks ago, I wanted so badly to just beg your forgiveness and ask you to come back, because it's so hard to breathe without you. But something inside me just kept silent. I think it's whatever's kept me alive for this long; that inner skeleton of steel that just keeps on standing even when the rest of me is paper-weak and crumbles when I hear your voice. If it's anything at all, know this: I am sorry for the pain I may have caused you. If I could go back and re-do that situation, I'd do it differently. I'm not apologizing for having valid feelings, and I'm not apologizing for being upset about the way you reacted. I am apologizing for going over the top and saying too much. Even if someone I love has hurt me to the core, I never want to do the same to them, because I love them so much. So, I am sorry. I wish more than anything that we could have a re-do, but I know that for you that's not possible. Sometimes a song lyric can say what you can't, so let this one by Lord Huron say it for me. Good bye. Take me back to the night we met And then I can tell myself What the hell I'm supposed to do And then I can tell myself Not to ride along with you I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met