Usually I’m hiding. There’s words I’m not saying. Things that I mean that I know I’m not conveying. And there’s you.
You knew everything I meant. I said everything I always wanted to. I tried… I tried hard. Maybe too hard. And sometimes I’m still sad. Because it could have worked. It might have been good. But not because you’re gone. I don’t care if you’re happy or sad… I know those words are inaccurate. I know that weather or not I care, your mood won’t change. I’m not bothered by your failures anymore. And those words I mean. You’ve screwed up in life. I know you know that. I always knew it too, but I excused it. I forgave. I don’t have to anymore. There was never anything to forgive. Your life is your own.
I’m not hiding anymore. I love you. That used to mean I’d do anything for you. Now it means, I miss you mostly. It means I’ll always miss you. I’m not happy that I love you, but it doesn’t make me angry anymore. I can have a life without you in it that is full and complete and joyful. I always could, but I never used to want one. Now I do.
I still want you. In that same desperate and primal way. I know that if you materialized here right now, it might happen just like it always used to. But now there’s a chance that it won’t. That my future might matter more than you. And I’m exploring that. Like you might explore a maze. Carefully, slowly, but finding new things everyday. And maybe my mind will change, and maybe yours will too, but I’ve always said I’m not the kind of girl that waits around for a guy… the thing is, I’ve waited for you for seven years.
I’m tired, I’m lonely, and you’re still not here. So in all fairness, I geuss I can say you’ve had your chance, even if I never got mine. I geuss I’ve finally stopped believing in next time.