one.

you always said we'd make it somewhere, someday.


three.

you also said, 'that day never should have happened.'

'that day' was when you led me into the forest, eyes closed, my hand in yours. it was the day you smiled at me like i was something beautiful.

it was when we counted the clouds in each other's eyes, and we prayed for the moment to never end. it was the day the sun couldn't stop shining and it was the day i found hope just to lose it again.

it was the day you said, 'i love you'.

'but that day,' you remind me, 'never should have happened.'

i try not to take this personally.


four.

you always said we'd make it somewhere, maybe into space. maybe we'd shoot away on a rocket and no one would ever catch us.

or maybe we'd be a song that no one could get out of their head, or a book no one could forget.

'maybe we'll make it to wonderland,' i told you.

but you smiled and said, 'i think the true wonderland is just happiness.'

i thought my wonderland was there, with you.

i wish you would've told me that wonderlands do not exist. or if they do, they disappear.


five.

you told me, 'we'll make it to forever, that's what we'll do.'

i hate that i almost believed you.

almost.


six.

well, we have made it to silence and bitterness. we have made it to 'i hate you' and 'i never want to see you again'.

we made it to not speaking to each other for over a month. i pretend i don't care.

we also made it to doors slamming and name-calling.

we didn't quite make it to forgiveness, though. we definitely didn't make it to wonderland.

or forever.


seven.

you always said we'd make it somewhere, someday.

somehow, i don't think this is what you meant.