aut inveniam viam aut faciam

I’m sorry that I said “forever” when I only meant that summer. Just for now. Just for sitting on your kitchen counter and eating blueberries, licking the juice from my fingers, you rubbing it from my chin with a washcloth. What I meant was my legs around your waist, lying on your couch wrapped in your robe arguing over the songs we wanted to listen to. And I think that I meant it then. When I told you that I loved you. When I said I always would. When we were wearing those golden moments like a blanket on our shoulders. I would have sworn then that you were always going to be it for me. My first and last and every other milestone in between. But moments pass, and so did we. And I’m sorry. That I told you you were it for me. I should have said that I love you now, and that’s it, not forever and maybe not even tomorrow. That’s it. That’s all I can do.