I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
It’s in days like these that I miss her the most. When I’m running on fumes, hungover and disgusted by myself. When flashes of the previous night come kicking me in the balls, and shame and sadness overtake me. When I walk down the park and in the distance I see her old workplace building, and I wish she was still there; killing time before coming over to mine to cook dinner and fuck. Or just to sit in front of the tv, with some ice cream and comfy clothes. Cuddling and making eye contact and smiling as if we never stopped falling in love with each other. And every time I dream about her, every time I fucking panic because I see one of her doppelgangers on the street, every time I’m alone in the dark… Every single fucking time, I wonder what it could have been. I ask into oblivion if it was worth it, to leave it all, to break us off. If she’s happy now. If her life after me has been much better than the time we spent together. And sometimes I check her Facebook and her LinkedIn profiles, to see if anything changed. If she’s okay. If she continues to exist. Because she never disappeared from my world. And no matter how many days, weeks and months have gone through, I still punish myself thinking that whatever problems or differences we had, we were just one conversation away to fixing them. And I blame myself for not doing more; knowing full well that I did everything I could to keep us afloat, to save our relationship, to be together. And as I continue to walk in that park, barely staying awake, Miley Cyrus comes in my earphones and I have a hard time keeping my tears from falling. As I rush through waves and waves of well-adjusted Danes in their happy little worlds and lives. And I play the song again: “Don’t you ever say I just walked away / I will always want you,” she sings; “I never meant to start a war /I just wanted you to let me in /I guess I should’ve let you win.” Maybe in the multiverse, in a different reality, she and I made it work. Lucky Eduardo that one, who could figure it out. Lucky C that one, who could got it right. And this fucking pain, this fucking sadness, is this goddamn feeling of defeat. Of having met the woman of my dreams, just to having to let her go, for she was too harmful to keep. And all I’m left with are these memories, and a mild sex addiction I gotta fix, somehow. Wish she knew I never had it with her, this fucking thing. I only had eyes for her. Never before, and never after, have I been more faithful to somebody, in mind, body and soul. And I am curious if life still holds one like her in the future. Or her, if somehow, has changed. And me, finally, not being wrecked.