Sitting across the table from her, looking into her sad eyes, I realized something. She's broken.
She talks of seeing happy couples. And why she never found that person who'd give his everything to make her happy. And all I can do is listen. I had my chances. I let her down.
She's built a wall. It's high. And solid. I couldn't tear it down if I tried. After all, I'm the reason she started building it in the first place.
She's jaded. Disillusioned. She's poured herself out. Given everything she had. Because that's how she thought it was supposed to be. And what does she have to show for it? Emptiness. Scars. Memories of tears. Questions. And no answers.
And all I can do is apologize. For the hundreth or thousandth time.
If I could, I would go back to where it all started going bad. Correct every mistake. Take back every hurtful word. Erase every ounce of pain. Undo every wrong. And make it right.
I would take away the tears and the disappointment. And fill her days with nothing but love. Pure. And true. Leaving no room for doubt. If I could, I would. But I can't.
I can't undo the hurt. I can't go back in time. I can't take back a single word that was said. Oh, how I wish I could. As I drift back to the moment at hand, I realize the sadness in my eyes now matches hers.
I broke her. And I'd give everything I've ever had to be able to put her back together. But I don't know how.
I broke her. But I can't fix her.
If I could, I would.
"I'd pick up the pieces. But some scattered too far. You see, they flew when I kicked them..."