I drove around one of the biggest cities in the U.S. searching for you, but don’t be sorry. It was midnight and my eyes were beginning to close themselves, but please don’t apologize. You couldn’t even begin to tell me where you were because you were too far gone and too confused to know, but it’s okay. You got into the car crying, and you’re eyes apologized.
I looked at you the next day, you were ashamed. You didn’t want me to see that side of you, but I did. But I don’t want you to feel guilty.
I’ve been where you were, I was treated the way you once were, I cried in unknown places like you were. The difference was, you had him to save you, I didn’t.
I found you, and he was waiting for you when you got in. You were afraid you were going to get into an empty truck. You were afraid of being left alone again. You were afraid to feel the pain you are running from.
Don’t apologize because I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear the words come from your mouth because I saw enough in your eyes. I want you to look at him and find comfort. Stop running, stop putting the bottle to your lips, stop popping the tab, and allow yourself to be loved. Just please, don’t apologize.