This Is From The Girl Who Couldn’t Love You Back

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. And when I say “a lot” I really mean to say, “you cross my mind on a daily basis.” We don’t talk much anymore, but all of sudden I find myself wondering how you are. Are you happy? Are you sad? Are you in love with someone new?

Or the most selfish question of all… are you still thinking of me?

I know have no right to ask it. But it’s there all the same. I don’t really know why these thoughts have decided to invade and interrupt the regularly scheduled programming of my consciousness. Why now after all this time?

Maybe it’s true what they say… Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Maybe the time and distance spent away from you has made me realize how nice the nearness of you was. Maybe I’m stuck in a sea full of strangers in a place 3,000 miles from everything I used to call “home” and I’m longing for a familiar face. Maybe I miss you.

Or maybe I’m just lonely.

I know that sounds cruel. I shouldn’t want something just because I have nothing, but I also know that I’m human and I have the very human tendency to romanticize the past. It’s easy to long for the things that never quite were and the people never quite had.

I’m sorry that I was so careless with the love you offered me. I ignored it. I denied it. I turned my back on it. I walked away from it. I take responsibility for that. I take responsibility for being too wrapped up chasing after the love of another to give your love a chance.

But, since I’m being honest, I should tell you that the failed prospect of you and me being “Us” wasn’t just a product of wrong place, wrong timing, wrong person. I was scared to love you because I knew loving you meant being with you on your terms. And I couldn’t bring myself to accept love under the condition of an ultimatum. I still can’t. So, here I am… thinking of you. Thinking about the life I didn’t choose. Stuck in an endless limbo of how things could be instead of how things really are.

And the way things are is this: I’m here, you’re there and neither of us is willing to go to extraordinary lengths to rectify that situation. So, maybe this is the way it was always supposed to end.

Maybe you did love me.

Maybe I could have loved you.

Maybe love was never enough.

Maybe our paths were meant to cross but never intertwine.

Maybe this is goodbye.

Maybe…