Guilt

Do you remember that evening,
On our summer camping trip?
We went for a walk,
In the dark.
Late at night.
Do you remember,
The sound of the gravel under our feet?
The stars studding the velvet sky?
The seductively noxious smell of extinguished fires?
The fleece against our necks?
Do you remember what we talked about?
I asked you,
And you said you wouldn't.
You said it was stupid.
You said it and the words caught at my heart like a faulty zipper.
It stung.
But I was blissful,
Because it assured me you were safe.
And now, goddamnit,
You might as well have lied.
You laughed at Hell,
And you dove right in,
Even when I told you it wasn't fun.
Why didn't I make you promise me?
Why did I trust your indifference?
Why did I trust the strong character,
I saw in myself,
When I knew how it could wither and die?
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.

I could have saved you.

If I had made you promise,
We might not be like this.