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dear s,
i'd like to rewind time, but we both know that can't happen.

i'd like to go back to last week and erase what i said. delete the flirting from existence. maybe then we'd be together and liking it. maybe then we wouldn't be sitting in our own houses, fuming and sputtering like hot kettles.

maybe i wouldn't be dating your friend, who is, by the way, amazing and everything i could ask for.

maybe you wouldn't hate me for what i've become, for what i promised you i wouldn't do.

i want things to be the same, but you won't let go of the fact that i'm dating your friend. that i lied to you. that i wrenched your heart through your rib cage, breaking every bone on the way out. that i took your love and turned it into something twisted.

i'm your anathema, and you can't let go of me. you're living in my shadow, hating me but not letting me out of your sight just yet.

maybe, just maybe, time can change me but i can't change time.