I’d ask you to go back.
To go back to the day when we were both strangers.
The day we still had the choice to meet or walk away.
I’m not trying to erase what we’ve been through.
To tell the truth, I’m hoping we find the specific moment it felt right before it all felt wrong.
The moment when there was no conflict between what we feel and what we know.
When our hearts and minds weren’t at war.
I want to relive that day as many times as I possibly can.
And then I want to let go of it entirely.
I’m not writing you to hold you a prisoner of my words and memories.
I’m writing you to release you.
If I could ask myself for anything, I’d ask for one thing.
To grow two hearts. One you could take with you and one that could remain new.
There are no words I could use to explain any of this.
But if you meant any less then maybe I would’ve had more to say.
It’s not unfortunate that you took up more space than I was willing to give.
It just proved to me that I was still young enough to fall with no boundaries but mature enough to walk out when it hurt more than it rewarded.
If I could wish for anything. It would be for the both of us to each find the place where everything tells us to stay.
Because up until now I’ve been faced with no bigger challenge than to sit still in a room filled with exit signs.
Some days weren’t as bright as we hoped for. Some nights weren’t as long as we wished they would be.
We had no predictable milestones. We were born into each other’s lives as strangers and as strangers, we let go.