Maybe I’ll just never be enough

“It didn’t work out” I guess those are just sort of four words that make you feel numb even when they shouldn’t. They’re the way love ends and the way your heartache story begins. You’ll look back on it a few years from now. Your hair is a lot shorter now and you’ve stopped biting your nails and you run into someone who knew you back then. Back when you were seventeen and you were his. And they’ll ask how you are and how you’ve been and what happened? What happened. Because oh god you were so in love. The kind of love that you don’t think ever goes away, until it does. So you’ll play it all back in your head even though you haven’t thought about it in years and it’ll rush back and wash over you and you’ll take every “I love you” and every hard kiss and every intertwined finger and wrap it all up and press it between the letters of the words “it didn’t work out.” You won’t talk about the first night you met and how you’ve never laughed so hard in your life. You won’t talk about sleeping on his bedroom floor incase his mother came into the room. You won’t bring up the way he made it feel like you weren’t going to die and with him, you never wanted to. You can’t even remember why it ended. Everything you were and everything you had is gone. It just didn’t work out. But you know that it could have.