We broke up last year. The love we had vanished. It was real, it was beautiful. You took her word for it and it was gone. You never said a word but believed hers more than mine.
Good thing we never had Elvis. Good thing we walked away before we bled out. Good thing we both had enough songs to carry us through. You might have gotten more in the settlement but I know how to interpret them on a more positive note.
The blind ones name their babies Elvis when they know they’ll never be royalty. They know what their life won’t look like. “They were just two jerks playing with matches.” As Regina beautifully put it.
We were just two jerks playing in the dark, not knowing our hearts were on the line. Good thing we never had Elvis. Good thing our ending was as poetic as all those stories we loved reading together.
I know you want me to wear your tattoo but I will not. Even if it hurts and even if this is about you, I will never wear your tattoo. Why would I ever carry a burden as dark?
Good thing we never had Elvis. Good thing there’s no proof of the love we had. Good thing we’re no longer holding each other’s mirror.
Elvis wouldn’t have been happy or sane. He would have been interrupted, as so many are. He would have been broken and a consequence of a love that was never meant to be. Good thing we never had Elvis.