Do All Things With Love

“He still asks about you, you know.” She gets a pang of longing and hurt in her chest. “I know.” She whispers “Do you ever think about getting in contact again?” She’s silent for a moment. “I would love nothing more than to run to him.” She says, smiling, thinking back to him. “But so much happened. So much hurt. I was broken after it ended. I can’t risk having to say goodbye again, it destroyed me for a long time. So would I want to? I would love nothing more. Will I? No.”

You’re like the flower that I won’t let die. Right before your petals start to wilt, I choose to give you one last try. Fill your vase up with water, refusing to neglect you like your father, so I promise that it won’t run dry.