I remember the way my fingers would cling onto yours when you would walk away. I hated saying goodbye but I didn’t want you to think that I relied on you too much.
I wanted for you to believe that I believed that things would be okay when forever ended. I knew what forever and always meant. I knew that it only meant until the end of our time. As in you and I. But I said it anyways because I wanted to believe that we did feel the same way.
I hoped that you knew that I would dig into my books just to remind myself of the way you laughed. I would go down the places we walked so I could get the scent of the air we both breathed. I did not want you to leave but you’re gone now. I wish I opened up to you the way I greedily took the pages of my journal apart with broken phrases and incomprehensible prose.
If I told you, maybe you would have stayed. But clearly, you would have left anyways. You were no writer and you were no reader, you were just a girl that I carelessly fell in love with.