We have history, you and I. We have years of it even. And it’s not history you could ever forget. It’s forever engrained in the history book of my mind.
I know we don’t talk a lot. We have surface level chats. About our jobs, about our friends and about our dogs. We only talk every few months. But every time we do, I get the same old sinking feeling. The same old sinking realization.
It will never be the same again.
We will never be those two bright eyed kids hopelessly in love. We will never be who we once were together. And we will never know each other like we once did.
So, why do we keep talking? Why do we keep chatting? Why do we keep bringing up the past, and bringing up our scars?
In some way, I’m glad for it. I’m glad I can still be involved in your life, even if it’s only for a few months every year. I’m glad you call me a friend. I’m glad we still share our art to another.
But at what point will this friendly banter end? At what point will we tell each other how we really feel? At what point do we spit out the truth?
So here’s what I have to say. If you love me, tell me.
Don’t let fear take over your head. If you love me, even a little bit, just tell me. Don’t let the fear of rejection rule your mind.
If you love me, if a tiny shred of you still loves me, please don’t hide from me. We have been through too much together to not state our truths. We have been through too much together to not say how we feel.
If you love me, don’t let me get away. Don’t let me give up on us. Don’t let me keep writing sad poems about you. Don’t let our history turn into dust. Don’t let what we worked on for so long be for nothing. Don’t let me keep waiting and wishing.
If it’s true, if this wish I’ve had for so long is true, tell me. Shout it to me. Write me a letter. Call me. Anything.
