If I could have known you the way I knew you that very first day I met you, forever, then I would have stayed. If I could have erased the dark colors of your past and shaded the colors of your present more easily with your (should-have-been) future, then I would have stayed.
But we all know first days bleed into the second; sometimes soundly, sometimes stentorianly. And that second day blended into all the rest, and before we knew it, before we could stop it, before we could run back into the arms of us as strangers, a year tossed at us the truth: I had already gotten to know you.
Sometimes I wonder what it would have taken for you to choose to stay. I wonder if you even felt like we had washed away the crimson atmosphere of the outside world that first day. That was how I felt, that was the way it always felt when we vacated the world and retreated into our heads. I wonder if you remember how it felt like to be completely at peace and uninhibited. Yet now I wonder if you have even ever gotten the privelage of feeling like that: an uninhibited peace.
But then I remember: you were the first to leave. There were no "if's" about me staying with you. That first day had painted you permanently in my head but you had separate plans, separate motives. Looking back now I think you were running away from us before you even walked in to meet me.
I have become utterly exhausted from seeing so many sprint away from the unknown before they love it enough for it to become familiar.
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