unsent letters ii

remember that first sunday when i learned you were here again. again that whole kaleidoscope of feelins. not a one of them happy? how can it be that the sight of someone i love causes me no pleasure at all? and i admit it, i do love you. the odd things is that i know you love me. how can two people love each other and never talk, not be friends, not get on, always be an upset one to another. that first sunday, you standing there with that lame line, "it's good to see you, Chris." and me? you asshole, you had been so bad to me for so long... you didn't expect me to smile back, did you? and i didn't. i wasn't ready to forgive you then? it's not that easy. you were supposed to be gone. gone forever after the pain you caused and now there you were and here you are and you're not going away. you know and you have known how i feel. i see it everytime you see me. you don't have the strength or maybe even the words to say i'm sorry. but, no, you could never except an apology in the first place. what if that sunday i had not been filled with horror and confusion and gone straight to you. that was a magic time. we might have embraced and things might have been alright. but that assumes i am responsible for everything. this i know: it ain't all my fault. i've only got so much control.