I think if you ever came back, if you ever decided that you wanted to, I think I'd probably still be disappointed. I'd probably try to kiss you again, as if nothing had ever happened between us. I'd try to hold your face, put my hands around your neck. I bet you taste different. Maybe you'd kiss me different too. Not with the overwhelming passion and hunger that you used to but with a replaced softness. Tenderness. I don't know if I like softness. You never were the one to be gentle with me. You never were soft. I think if you ever came back I'd melt the second I looked into your eyes again, hoping that something had changed within you.
I think if you came back you'd ruin me slightly. But I think that's okay, I sort of like the unknowingness of it all. The unknowing of what we could be. Maybe if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more. About what happened. How your hurt me. How you turned me cold. I used to tell you to tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway. But I didn't know you could be like this. The point of all of this being I have loved you with everything in my soul, I loved you until my bones cracked. And I have to live with that, forever.
