This Is Me Accepting That There May Never Be Another Chance With You
This is me accepting that there may never be another morning having coffee with you. This is me accepting waking up alone again. This is me realizing that the sun doesn’t stop shining even when you’re gone. That life still goes on. That a new day will always bring new hope, new dreams, new plans but it may not bring you again.
This is me accepting that there may never be another vacation exploring a new city with you. There may never be another adventure, another weekend getaway or another romantic escapade with you. This is me savoring all those good times, all those good memories and cherishing every minute of them because they may be all I’ve got right now. This is me realizing that every place we went to, every corner we walked in may never feel the same again. This is me accepting that even if the lights are on, some places will always be dark to me, because it was once linked to you or linked to us.
This is me accepting that this is where it all ends. This is me realizing that maybe we got too carried away and lived a lie we so badly wanted to believe. This is me accepting that we’re better off with other people. This is me releasing any expectations from you. This is me releasing you. This is me unclenching my fingers from your hand. This is me realizing that the last time I held your hand was the truly the last time I’ll ever hold you.
This is me realizing that there may never be another chance with you. This is me accepting that there may never be a happy ending with us. This is me accepting that this may be the end of our story; with no plot twists, no climax, no sequel. But this also me not giving up on happy endings, not giving up on love, not giving up on hope, not giving up on fairytales, but I’m accepting that they may just never be with you.
This is me accepting that this new chapter I’m writing will not have your name or your story or any reference of you. This is me accepting that you may not be my favorite chapter after all. This is me realizing that I may write about you one more time, but I may never write about us again.