Maybe.

Maybe it wasn't what it was
Maybe it wasn't right
Maybe the foot couldn't slip into the slipper
Maybe he should've given up the fight
Maybe it was about her
Maybe it wasn't about him
Maybe she wasn't what she was
And maybe all he he saw was just the brim.
Like the cold, he thought he could change when he found warmth,
Melt into watery nothingness.
Like the willow tree, he thought he could find happiness when the wind passed by and picked up his lancidness.
Like the moon, he always hoped to see the sun, his one true love, or what he thought was the only one.
Like the sun, he knew he was never going to be able to hold her hand or kiss her cheek, or even say the words that might just give him a peek
Or a glimpse
Into the future
Where he mattered
The most
To her.
Only then
Will her future end
And ours
Can truly
Begin.