u/Helpful-Morning1067

we’re still holding hands.

in my mind,

i’m your sweet girl.

many would never call me sweet.

but for you…

that’s all i’d know how to be.

i’ve realized you didn’t really care like i felt you did

but i still miss

the ever loving fuck out of you

for reunion, an explanation, clarity, a miracle.

i simply wish we’d had a little more time.

just one more day, me and you.

learning each other, seeing each other.

i wonder if it would have made the leaving bittersweet instead of just bitter.

i closed the door
because you seem to feel safest
with me on the other side

sometimes i think i hear footsteps
an ear pressed against the wood, listening
fingertips, tracing

sometimes i even think i hear a hand
on the doorknob, jiggling

you see, when i closed the door
i didn’t know it had an automatic lock
both of us trapped in our separate rooms

i put myself here, true
but what’s even truer is
i only put myself as far away as you pushed me

you didn’t choose me.

and we both have to live with that.

i finally have nothing else to say, j.

all the letters and thoughts…

it just comes down to that.

goodbye.

so pissed. so mad and hurt.

this was all so avoidable.

if you did come back, would i ever even be able to forgive you didn’t choose me the first time?

you ever find these letters (there were many others, long deleted)

and think of me,

and your heart still holds space for what could be,

write me one back.

but please - in your language.

i never got to hear you speak it.

when you visit my dreams, that’s always how we talk.

and somehow i always understand.

i miss you. be safe. be happy.

p.s. in case you ever thought so, i didn’t choose someone else. i chose myself when you didn’t.

to wake up in a warm bed, your arm draped lazily around my waist.

eyes slowly blinking open. sunlight from the window on your cheek. birdsong, the soundtrack to that first few minutes of the day. of you.

it’s a funny thing. the wishes i have feel more like memories. they feel lived-in and comfortable, like ive been there before.

i wish. and i want.

i want, i want, i want.

and it burns.

if you regret anything.

i do. but i don’t regret meeting you.

i hope you don’t regret meeting me either.

it took me a while to find the word, but ive realized that what i feel when i think of you is…homesick.

how strange to be strangers. but i guess we always were.

it would be gone by now. the feeling.

i worry what it means that it’s not.

we missed it. i miss you.

i have no idea if you ever did feel the same. or still do.

i’ve said goodbye over and over.

it doesn’t take.