One Day, This Will Be An Epic Love Story

I know I shouldn’t know how many days it’s been since we’ve spoken last. Have you ever cared that much? I wonder if you’ll say hello again or leave it up to me. I think of how there has never been a time that my arms have been folded or unwelcoming. Since I’ve met you, I have been waving hello and sidestepping unspoken goodbyes.

But sometimes I feel like siding with my pride because I’m too tired to fight anyone anymore. It isn’t fair that I’m the one who is left to reach out. I would reach out but I won’t do it, only because I’m afraid that you’ll choose to forget me. I won’t do it this time because I’m terrified that you don’t see me at all. I shouldn’t be afraid to leave the choice up to you.

Sometimes I say I love you as a prayer that you’ll come through. But why am I always trying to separate myself from everyone else in your life? I know I’m not like anybody else. I torture myself just hoping you’d care enough to remember me. I’m not writing this to be angry or to be right. I’m only saying that I won’t kill myself to love someone else more than anyone could ever love me.

Maybe this isn’t making much sense to any of you right now. I’m just writing the words that come to me. I promise this is genuine. He’s close to my heart, like a best friend, but he’ll never understand that. I’m not blaming him, but I know all that he can see is me angry when I think about how long I’ve loved him. How long he hasn’t loved me. Not in the same ways, never on the same days. We never meet in the middle, never in the same place. He’ll never understand that I’m not only after his heart. But if I was, would that be such a crime? I’ve already done the time. I know staying was my own choice, but love isn’t. And if loving someone was a choice, I’d never choose not to love him.

One day, this will be an epic love story, whether it has a fairy-tale ending or just an end. I guess I’m here to make it clear that I never walked away. I haven’t always shown it in the best ways, but I’ve loved him to the end and through. Whatever this is, it’s not a goodbye, even if we never say hello again.

I’m sorry if this makes no sense to you. I’m trying to make this clear, but it’s a story I’ve never learned to tell. I love him in a way I’ll never be able to articulate to you all. It’s hard to explain it to myself. I just know it’s there, and maybe I won’t always have big feelings or talk about it, but I’ll always carry it because it changed me.