You forgive me?

I forgave you and you never even apologized. Wasn't that nice of me? But I couldn't not forgive you. I couldn't not take your hand when you offered it because, I thought, "What if this is the last time I see those eyes, feel that hand on my skin? What if this is it and I forever regret this moment, this chance I didn't take?"

You told me you were never mad at me, that whatever happened between us you had forgiven. But I was mad at you. Doesn't that count? I asked why you lied, why you disappeared and you asked why that was important two months later. Two months? Not that long ago -- still very memorable for me. Still keeping me up at night, right up until the moment I saw you again.

You said, "Don't get lost on me again, please," as if that is what I had done. And I melted. I said, "I won't, of course I won't." I held onto you like this was the beginning of something.

And you're gone again. It's three days of silence, already. And somehow I'm amazed. Somehow I didn't see it coming... again.