excerpts from a book I hope to write

You’ve hit me like a hurricane.

“So what is it that you want to do about me and you? Just end things here? Never speak to each other again?”

“Almost.”

“

Light me up.

“But maybe we aren’t even meant to be. Maybe dead ends are just dead ends, and pushing anything further is just prolonging the amount of time it’ll take me to heal from this. You were a season—a transitional season. You would think I would be used to those by now. But I don’t think any kind of warning sign could have prepared me for this. I just can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about what we could have been, or what we could still be. Time goes by and I miss you as easily as it is to breathe. I hate the way I want you.”

“Just come over, we don’t even have to talk. We’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime. Why can’t we just chose what we want, and it be meant to be? Why is it that I’ve found someone so perfect, yet so wrong for me?”

“I’m done acting like I don’t care about you when I do. I know you don’t miss me too, and I hate the fact that there’s nothing I can do to change it or get a second chance. Call it dramatic, but I can’t stop caring. I’m still here like I said I would be and the feelings are still real. I know these feelings aren’t mutual, and that’s okay... I just want you to be happy. With or without me... please stay happy.”

“But who am I to say this will never work? All the signs pointed to us never beginning, yet we shattered that obstacle from the first time we linked eyes.”

That first touch said it all. You held my hand and touched my heart. Your fingertips traced alongside me and read every inch of all the things I never got to say.

It’s not that I don’t love you anymore, it’s just that it stopped being a good enough reason.

My heart was breaking in the quietest way. He had her, and she was happy to be his.