The Switch

Two years ago you cried to me, begged me, told me that you'd change for me, if only I'd reconsider. You weren't aware then, and you may not be now, that this was such a huge part of my reasoning, that it broke my heart to hear you ask for forgiveness for something you couldn't help, to listen to you tell me that you'd alter yourself in any and every way if it were to make me happy.
Truly, I did it in part to save you, to keep you true to yourself.
I'd never allow anyone to change for me that way, especially not you. Because I did love you, and I love you still.

Tonight I watched you mumble, watched you tread up the street, watched you stand still for a moment, back to me, and then break into a sprint up the hill and out of sight, out of reach.
And you broke my heart again.
This time because I felt pain for you, but a different pain than I had two years ago. This time you broke my heart because I remembered your tears, and then remembered how different you are now from then.
You broke my heart because you ran away from me, when all I wanted was to console you, to comfort you, to tell you that I love you.
You broke my heart because you told me to wait, not to go, that you needed me, that you wanted me to stay for a while, and then you said "nevermind" and went to bed.

You broke my heart this time, because this time it was I who cried, who begged, who asked for forgiveness, and it was you said "It's not your fault."
But you never said "I love you."