If you were to love me again, I’d be fearless.
I wouldn’t doubt the moment you winked at me across that crowded room. I wouldn’t question your intentions. I wouldn’t waste those minutes wondering if you were a good guy, and would instead just walk over to you and ask.
I wouldn’t think about whether or not we could work before giving us a chance. I wouldn’t be afraid of who you’ve loved or where you’ve been. I would know that the past will always be the past, and I’d smile and fearlessly take your hand.
If you were to love me again, I’d kiss you a little deeper.
I’d lean into you, reach up on my tip-toes, and pull you to me. I’d let the music, the sounds around us, the voices, the doubts be drowned by the beating of my heart. I’d shut up for a minute, and let my lips do the talking.
If you were to love me again, I’d bring you in a little closer.
I’d tell you all the words I was too hesitant to say. I’d show you the parts of me I try to keep so hidden. I’d allow you inside the dark corners of my mind and let your heart bring light there. I’d stop trying to be so perfect and allow you to you see me for me.
If you were to love me again, I’d do it right this time.
I wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t let my mind overrule my heart, wouldn’t be sitting here, days and months and years later, questioning all of my decisions. Wishing I could hit rewind.
If you were to love me again, I wouldn’t be so stubborn.
But maybe I still would. Stubborn for the right reasons. Stubborn when it came to loving you. Stubborn when it was about us. Stubborn in fighting, and not letting you walk away so easily.
If you were to love me again, I wouldn’t let my heart be swayed.
Not by the people who claimed they knew what I wanted. Not by the thoughts others put in my head. Not by the ones who said they loved me and wanted me to be happy, never understanding that even in our chaos, I was the happiest with you.
If you were to love me again, I’d tell you what I should have from the start.
That I was a mess, but your mess. That I was a Pisces, and your opposing sign. That I was young and a tornado of a girl, making storms as she fought to find herself. That I loved you, still love you. So damn much.
If you were to love me again, I’d be honest.
I’d tell you when you sucked. I’d tell you when I was doubting us. I’d share the fears and aches on my heart without worrying how you felt, because my feelings are important, too.
I’d tell you that you were a coward for leaving. That you shouldn’t have walked away. That even after all this time, there’s a tiny you-shaped hole in my heart, still waiting to be filled.