My words made you wince.

The words were soft. 

But they stung like the salty tears running down my sunburnt cheeks.

I take a step away. 

I never wanted to be so far away from someone I knew I didn’t want to leave.

The promises we made calloused over—then flaked away.

And, 

I think I should have known we would be here eventually. 

My dog never got too attached to you.

But,

I told you he needed more time. 

We needed more time.

The songs we used to scream in your Jeep.

With the windows down.

The reason for me to not step further away from you. 

They are the words running through my head now. 

I should have thought about how deeply devastating the lyrics were.

Before they made me never want to open the windows again. 

We never thought about it.

Would have it been different if we took the time to understand those lyrics before they destroyed us?

I pushed you away:

“Fine.”

Not fine. 

“I don't want to do this.”

I can’t do this.

And suddenly those tears stain my cheeks and our calluses turn into sore palms.

And my dog forgets you before your windows have the chance to roll up.

And I realize now there is a reason my chest aches when we sing.