I made excuses for your exit while you were still here.
I felt that you would leave long before you did.
I tried to find a loophole that would allow me to escape the feeling of missing you.
At this point in time, it may seem pathetic that I still do.
I'm trying to find a way out of it.
But,
You don't hand write letters for just anyone.
You don't make sure every memory was so niche and unique that it could never be replicated, just for it to be easily forgotten.
You simply do not put your heart and soul into a person, just to never be given the opportunity to love them again.
I torture myself by wondering if you ever think of me at all.
My heart races at the thought of you still holding on to my words.
As dramatic as my words may seem.
To me, heartache and yearning are simply not as romanticized as they used to be.
I try to convince myself that I have no right to miss you. Perhaps I naively believe that that will make the dull ache of your absence dissipate.
If I'm being honest with myself, I don't think I'll ever move on from you.
I can't explain it but it feels as though I'm not supposed to.
Some must think it sad to keep my heart still open.
May they withhold their sympathy.
For this is one unchanged truth,
My heart is more than satisfied with the journey it went on with you.
And the only thing that will bring you back to me, is your own intrinsic desire to.
