You Wanted Her / by Rebecca Tillett

You hadn’t looked at me in days. You hadn’t really seen me in years. You saw only the heavy black clouds enclosing me. You didn’t understand me. You didn’t want to. You wanted something easier. You wanted to believe you deserved better. You wanted someone smiling back at you from future days. You wanted to stop cranking your neck backward in hopelessness and exhaustion. You wanted to not feel responsible anymore. You wanted to move forward and leave me in the past where you assumed I belonged, where you insisted I wanted to be. You wanted to be someone else’s savior, someone else’s shelter. You wanted her. You wanted to leave the tragedy behind. You hadn’t looked at me in days. You wanted to not feel responsible. You wanted me to understand. You wanted everything except for me. I wanted nothing but you, and I wanted to die if I couldn’t have it.