If Right Now Isn’t For Us, I Pray We Meet Again

I was naïve to fall in love with you so quickly, so unconditionally. I was a fool to think you had the capacity to love me back. I had the most pure heart, untainted, completely whole and ready to give you everything. The love I had for you was a beautiful thing, but expecting the same level of affection in return was my greatest downfall.

I believe everyone is capable of love, I just hadn’t been lucky enough to feel it yet. I thought I’d come close before, I’d felt a small spark, but we pulled the plug before the flame began. That is, until I met you. Being with you, the intensity of the emotion I felt, proved I never had a clue what love was in the first place. Such a beautiful, raw feeling, and this was the first I’d gotten to experience it? Is this what all those couples on Instagram feel every day? Life is so unfair, but once I had it, I couldn’t let it go.

Part of me wants to believe I’ll feel that way again someday. But the other part of me knows I’d run scared if I ever did. Because as beautiful as it felt, coming down from that high was worse. The soul crushing, hallow feeling when I drove away from your place for the very last time, trying to see the road through my sobs, is something I never want to feel again. It’s a feeling I wouldn’t wish on anybody, to feel so empty and incomplete without the person they called home.

Loving you was easy, you gave me so much to fall for. It felt natural, like this is the way I was supposed to live my life. Washing dishes after cooking you dinner, with your hands on my hips and your lips on my neck. It’s like I finally found where I belong, and that’s with you.

Loving me must have been more difficult. It must’ve been more work than you were willing to put in. Maybe it was killing you inside to be with me every day. Maybe me thinking I needed to try harder, was pushing you further away.

I know I smothered you. I know my love was too much for you to handle. I know I was clingy and afraid to leave you alone for even an hour. But you know those trust issues didn’t come from no where, you know you gave them to me. You and every girl you had in bed when I wasn’t there.

Still, I stayed. I couldn’t convince myself to leave, my love for you grew deeper with every fake apology. Every fake speech about love. You and I both knew I loved you too much to ever leave, so you took one for the team and set me free.

Except I don’t feel free still. I feel trapped inside a life I don’t want to live alone. I feel captivated in a cage, the key is within my reach, yet I refuse to let myself out. I’m still sitting here alone, praying you might come back. You have to come back.

Truth is, I’m still hoping there’s another chance for us. I’m still counting on your drunk text, asking me to come back, to forgive you for the damage you left behind, and I would give you that, if you’d only ask. I’d give you anything, for one more chance to do things right.

I think on some level I’ll always love you. They say time heals everything, but it’s been so long and I’m still waiting for you. I’ll always wait for you. Even if I’d never met you, I think I’d be waiting for you. Because nothing else, no other person, has felt this right. There is no one else that can make me feel the intensity of emotions you do. Every person I’ve tried to love, has been a failed attempt to replace you.

It wasn’t our time yet. But I’m trusting we will have our time someday. Maybe we’re both different people, maybe I’m stupid for thinking you could ever love just one person, but I’m holding on to the past, on the off chance that you’ll change your mind.

Please know, if I never get another chance to tell you, how much you truly mean to me. Please remember how valuable you are. I know you’re as damaged as I now am, I know you need to be reminded that you are loved. As much as you did me wrong, I never want you to doubt yourself. You are capable of so much, I know you could do great things if you put your pride away.

And lastly, I hope someday there is another chance for us. When both our hearts are mended, I pray we run into each other at some bar, get a few drinks, reminisce, and remember what we had. Maybe we’ll realize it was something too good for two young hearts to handle, maybe we can fix it, and maybe, someday, we’ll have that white picket fence house, a few dogs, and the right kind of love.