I Don’t Know How To Let You Go

You came into my life when I least expected it. Like an earthquake that shook my entire world. My earth shifted, and nothing would ever be the same.

I was five days away from moving to another city, 366 miles from the epicenter you turned out to be.

I was ready to leave, but meeting you changed everything.

Then, I was dying to stay, but I couldn’t.

So, I had to say goodbye, but I couldn’t do that either.

But I did do the next best thing. The only thing I could do. I came back to see you. Once. Twice. Going on three times.

Our two days together turned into twelve days, into seven weeks, into three months, into, well, even now.

Because in the span of those first five days, I fell hard. And I fell fast.

I didn’t know it then, but you were going to be the one to teach me how to let someone in, how to overcome my fears, how to stay, how to love, how to be loved. You set the standard for every guy who would come after you.

And it was assumed that there would be someone after you, that we would end.

And we did. Or at least, we tried to.

But the thing is, I still think about you all the time.

Everything reminds me of you.

Even though I can no longer remember the sound of your voice.

Even though your scent no longer lingers on my clothes.

Even though it’s been two months since we last saw each other.

I don’t know how to let you go.

I’m not even sure that I could.

I’m not even sure that I want to.