Never too late

There's something wrong in all of this, something I cannot figure out. Something is turning me away from walking down that dark corridor and into a greater understanding.

It's not a matter of who is to blame. It's just a matter of knowing the truth, whether it's ugly or not. I've never shied away from knowing the truth; it's been the only thing I've ever cared about. It's my vocation; everything else is just a job.

That girl is a puzzle. There's something impossible about her. What drove me so far away from her? What led me back? I thought she would be mine; I thought she rejected me. What on earth happened all those years ago? Is there any way to know? Is there anything I can do short of falling on my face and pleading to the Almighty for answers? All I hear is, "The past is the past." 

Then it happened again. The same thing. I was drawn back to that place, to that same puzzled hurt. When I look in the mirror, it's clear I've changed. But the feeling is the same. How many times will you let that girl drop bombs on your heart? How many times will she hurt you greater than any woman before or after her? How many times are you going to open that door to her? You keep fudging the math and saying, "At least once more." 

I'm clearly to blame for my actions, and, sadly, my inactions regarding her. I let her slip away. And, in the end, I walked away. I was so confused by her. I was so lost in my own head. And I was launching myself away from that place. How could I look back? It seemed so unfair, all of it. And it still does. If we had just talked it out; if we had just been honest with each other, we could have spared ourselves so much hurt and confusion. Maybe that's the thing that we can gain from all of this; maybe that's the lesson. 

I don't regret opening that door all these years later and seeing her there. I don't regret it for myself, but I do regret it for her sake. I think she would have been better off without my stupid quest for answers. I will always want to know. But, I didn't have to involve her in my ill-advised game of pointlessly digging up the past. 

It seems there's blame to go around here, but I will always blame myself the most. I saw a future for us, and I got scared. We would have had a wonderful life together, and we should have. Instead, I wouldn't have any of it. Too easy, I suppose. And she was too perfect. 

This guilt I bear has been here for so long. That night I threw her away will ever be before my eyes and on my heart. I couldn't burn her out of my mind; I couldn't throw her out of my heart. Nothing I've ever done has gotten her out of me, and that is terrifying. The wrong I did to her hurts me every single day. I can't say I'm sorry enough. 

I'm truly lucky to have had a second chance with her. And, true to form, I screwed it up. If I ever get a third chance, I probably won't know what to do. I may blink at it, unbelieving, confused, unsure. There's just something about that girl that I miss, that I never want to be without. Maybe she understands what I'm talking about. 

It took me all these years to realize what I already knew: that she is the one I want to love. She's the one I miss. It's never too late to be honest. It's never too late to tell her you're sorry and that you love her desperately. Maybe it's too late for us, but it's never too late for the truth.