I regret not giving you a chance.
You have been very good to me. There’s a huge part of me that kicks myself for doing what I did and not what I should have. I regret not letting you in. I regret everything I did to push you away. I regret not seeing the good thing when it was right in front of me. I regret not believing in good things, in softer things; I regret not believing there could be more to life than those things I am familiar with.
Today I wonder, what if.
You were so authentically kind to me that it made me afraid. Part of it was my habit of pushing people away, part of it was my terrible taste in men, part of it was me finding it so hard to believe someone could actually be that good and kind to me.
You always knew the right things to say. You always asked about my day, so much so that it made me feel like you thought of me throughout yours. You had a genuine desire to see me and spend time with me. You exhausted your efforts in trying to take me out, in trying to make it known how you felt, in trying to make me feel special.
I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, should I have the guts to send the words formed from heartache and tears, but if you ever do, I hope you know that letting you go is the biggest mistake of my life, my biggest regret. There is never a part of me which wouldn’t give up all I had for another chance at relighting the spark to the flame we held.
There is no clear conclusion for the thoughts I have towards you; I just hope there is closure for you where there is the unknown for me. For every thought I have of you, I hope you think of the future and all it holds for you. For every ounce of pain and regret in my being, I pray there is positivity and hope for you. There is never a day in my lifetime I won’t owe you my happiness and there is certainly not a second in this lifetime that I won’t love you.
Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back, then that love had to be real.
It hurt too much to be anything else.