This Is How Our Love Story Ends

The next time your heart starts to flutter I won’t be the reason why. The next time you sit across the dinner table at your favorite French restaurant I won’t be on the other side. The next time you text me to meet up at the coffee shop down the street I won’t reply.

That’s how our story ends. No make ups, or make outs. No laughter or meaningful friendships. Just two people who were once together and now are not. Two people who once used to talk all day, but now can’t even hold a conversation.

You, with your friends at the library, sitting next to him and me on my way downtown to see her. You traveling on a plane to vacation in Northern Africa, and me in my room wondering where you could possibly be. You thinking about why I could never be your friend, and me wondering why you could never give us a second chance. That’s how our story ends.

We could have told them a beautiful one. One where we told them about the way I missed you, and all the times I wanted to be with you and you didn’t want to be with me. A story where we told them about how hard it was to be friends with each other at first, but worked through it and developed our relationship. A story where in the end it was just you and I, together as one.

But you and I can’t exist in real life.

There can be no “we”, and there could have never been an “us”. Our story was unrequited, unfinished, and unsatisfactory. You can’t convince people to like you. You can’t give someone reason after reason as to why you think it will work and expect them to act on that information.

Our story ended with so many unsaid words and so many unperformed actions. Our story ended with regret, and denial. Our story ended in the worst possible way, and there is nothing any of us can do except not open that chapter.

We can’t think about what a second chance would have looked like. We can’t think about the trips to the coffee shop, or the waterfalls we could have gone to see. We can’t think about lazy Sunday’s together, or Friday nights at music concerts. Never mind the dinner dates and movie nights, for those will never come into existence.

Our story is over. No new twists and no new turns. The plot can’t change and won’t become any more or less complicated. There is no cliffhanger so people won’t be left hungry for more.

All you are to me is someone I shouldn’t think about.

Someone I shouldn’t text, someone I shouldn’t want to be with. And all I am to you is someone that it didn’t work out with. Someone who blew up your phone but only had innocent intentions. That’s all we are to each other.

That’s how our story ended.