Perhaps I shouldn’t even blog about this. When it crossed my mind earlier, all the reasons why I shouldn’t write this at all instantly rang in my head like alarm bells.
See, you’re forbidden to me in every way. Thinking about you in this light should not even be allowed. I’m thinking that maybe it’s the curse of a failed past that is haunting me. Maybe that’s the reason why I am still hung up on you after so many years. We’ve both matured. Things had changed, but the fact that you are forbidden to me then and now still hasn’t changed.
You will always be that red light, and beating you will mean violating the law. A crime. A sin.
That’s what this is. A sin. In all sense of the word.
The fact that you even glanced my way is wrong, too. We’ll always be wrong. We’ve been stained and no matter how much we try to wash ourselves, forget it and set things right, we will always remember that there was a time we harbored such disgusting, hideous feelings, albeit brief. Or was it, really?
I don’t want to know.
Things have gone back to how it should be. How it was before this crazy, fucked up storm. It’s better this way.
For a time, it felt great. The exhilarating feeling of spinning toward the unknown felt great. The rushing thrill of the forbidden, the challenge of the taboo, the chase of the new. They all felt amazing. But what if it was just a phase? What if reality suddenly catches up? What then?
Crash and burn, that’s what.
I was clouded for a moment, intoxicated by thoughts of what could be, until the cold, hard truth slapped me in the face.
I had to snap out of it – and I did. It was right to avoid you because we’ll never be right.
This is right. My choices are right. I am right.
And you’re very wrong for me.