They say everyone is the bad guy in someone’s story.
Is that the role I played in yours?
I’m sure, given the time of day, we both are the villain, in a certain light.
I was out of my damn mind, literally. So down a bad path that I made rash and dangerous choices with your heart. I pushed and thrashed and overcompensated in an impossible world where we walked as the dead.
I knew you could spar, I think we got all high on the drama and the volume and how close we could land a punch to the soul. You got your licks in, there are parts of who I am that are still tender to the touch. The bruises long faded, the marks on my heart remain.
We chased each other and we each kept tabs. Intel for the next salvo.
That last couple of months it got…
It bled into real life, the head-on impact was avoided, but both cars went off separate cliffs.
It made it easier for us to run.
It’s been years now. I remember a revision of our tenuous history. It’s softer now, quieted by time and nostalgia and probably shades of remorse.
I can’t say that I played fair or was ever at my best, in all honesty, you didn’t and weren’t either.
How often are we aware, at the time, our acts of villainy?
But I concede, in your retelling of our time, I played the bad guy.
In mine, the fool.