As we grow older and drift farther apart, I realize there are achievements of yours I’ll never witness, creations of mine you’ll never see, and celebrations we’ll never share . A bittersweet taste lingers on my tongue, like words I’ll never say to you–a stranger I once loved so deeply, held so tightly I suffocated you. You loved just as fiercely, held on just as tightly, until you could hold on no longer.

Which begs the question: does love truly conquer all?

Two people, two souls, interlinked bound by love yet burdened by circumstance, tangled in insecurities and fears. When does love become too heavy to bear? When does choosing yourself feel like severing a part of you that refuses to die? When does letting go of our love cross into something close to murder, blood on both hands, stains left on one. When you forget the sound of my voice and I forget the color of your eyes does that mean our love has officially died, do we throw a funeral for what could’ve been if pride didn’t kill it before we did, Do we leave kind words to say? “Here lies the love that awoke me again, tarnished by immaturity and miscommunication. a love buried by the ones who killed it.” 

And if our love failed, was it ever really love at all. 

One day You’ll have the two kids we always dreamed of, as will I—maybe not of the same blood, but always a could’ve been. We’ll both find the big house, the white picket fence. the love we once imagined, and become the new people we once promised ourselves to be, we promised each other to be. I want that for you, and I pray you want that for me.

our children will pass each other on the street, not knowing their parents once shared a love unfound. and my eyes will meet yours, and ill remember the color again, when you were younger how vibrant and bright they were, how they felt like home. we’ll think about the life we could’ve had, and how fast we let it go I’ll sigh tell myself everything happens for a reason and , we’ll smile. Because I remember you and you remember me, not just physically but by the energy we created behind the wrinkles and crow eyes. You’ll feel me there.

 subtle small questions and did you know hers will slip through their mouths, and the funny phrase “I used to.”  will buzz in the air

I’ll ask you how you are, you’ll tell me that you're great, you’ll ask about my kids, I’ll tell them to introduce themselves as we chit chat in the produce aisle.   but nonetheless we will have known each other, a red string aligned across our fingers.

you have many chapters in my story, but you will not be on the front page any longer. And that too is okay.

 For this freedom I have found has shown me a peace a life with you brought, how much I’ve grown simply by knowing you and knowing that I am okay on my own. And for you it could be the same.

 So whenever we’re older, and more wise. You will find me on that street corner, or in that store, in that neighborhood, and we may not begin anew. but surely, it is guaranteed I knew you once to.