There are so many things I would ask you if I could. I want to take you out to coffee and have a long conversation that goes from afternoon to sunset while we look out at a body of water somewhere. We’d have that body of water so we wouldn’t have to look at each other when we talk about the hard things.Â
Do you ever think about the fact that we never even got to hug each other when we said goodbye?
We talk now, I know, but it’s not the same. I think that’s why you don’t really want to be my friend. I know we can’t go back. But I also know that there are layers underneath everything we say. So many of them. Or are there?
I asked you last year if you still think about it, everything that happened, if it still affects you. You said how could it not? I didn’t know what to say after that.
If I could ask you these things over a cup of coffee next to a body of water we could look at, I would ask you:
What effect did it end up having on your life?
Have you fallen in love since?
Did you question it every step of the way?
Have you wondered about finding me again?
What’s the word for when someone is so seared onto your heart that even when you don’t love them any longer, your heart still keeps it as a permanent point of reference?
You’re not waiting for me, are you?
I want you to be happy more than I’ve wanted many things - not anything, not any more - but so many, many things. I want you to find a good woman. I want you to be able to look at her in the early morning and think that life was meant to lead you to this place.
I want to say goodbye properly, the way we should have had it, with a long hug and a gentle laugh. A shared smile. And I turn around and walk into the future.
blakekathryn
theartofmadeline
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
