I know I wanted love.
I know you wanted to show me.
But love takes patience, and you weren’t patient with me.
Did you really know me?
Not that I was complicated. I told you that.
I mean, did you know me through my actions instead of my words?
Because my words were the only things you remembered.
And in the end, they were used against me.
I didn’t bring up your behavior because I was afraid of losing you.
I knew December was coming.
I knew I would miss you then.
I don’t cry the way I used to.
Sad things don’t do it anymore.
Death, failure, memory. Nothing.
But music does.
Strangers do.
Clouds do.
And somehow, you do.
I never thought I loved you.
Even now, I don’t know if I did.
But everything reminds me of you, and that has to mean something.
This feels like a letter you’ll never read.
Maybe that’s what it’s meant to be.
