“Do you ever think about what we…”
“Please don’t finish that sentence.”
“Why? Why don’t you ever want to talk about our lives?”
“Because as painful as it is when I think about you. It’s my own hell to know I walked away from the life of the one person that could ever make me complete.”
Even as I moved on. Even as I made my choice. Even if everything in my life were set right just the way I wanted it to be. There will always be that part of my heart that belongs to the one person who in turn completed the me that no one else could understand let alone accept. After so long, even watching her torment leaves no more room for bitter vindication.
If anything, I want us to return to a time when nothing else in the world mattered but our our own thoughts. I want that both of us can rely on each other the only way we know is right. Most of all, I want more than anything for her to be happy with her own life.
The hardest thing to do in times like this isn’t always missing someone who’s gone. The hardest part for us to live by is missing someone you know is there for you.
Always there and never yours.