i can count on two hands the number of times i've tried to write something here. i wish we could talk as intimately as we used to, but i suppose that was just another thing that you took with you when you ran off last summer.
the memory of us burns red-hot in my mind, replaying over and over again as i try to pinpoint where we went wrong. was it one of the early mornings when we walked along the beach, planning our future and making promises neither of us could keep? was it whispering numerous secrets, stargazing beneath the thick blanket of the virginia heavens? or was it the sudden yet expected presence of the three words we'd been dancing around for three years? i write this on the cliff we used to call home, where we would stand on the edge and let the wind rush to greet us, lifting the hair curled at the nape of your neck and feeling the adrenaline of knowing that one misstep would send us floating to the crashing waves below. as cliche as it is, i reminisce. not because it hurts but because the memory of you makes the pain worthy. even now, i struggle to remember you as you were last june, before the anxiety clouded your judgment and began to control you. i wish you would've told me. i would have understood, i swear. i wish i could've noticed, when the creases on your forehead became just another part of you, when you stopped paying attention to the birds in the trees and the water nipping at your toes. i wish i could've gone with you. i wish...
gosh, i miss you so much. but, i understand why you left. and now, i think i am beginning to understand why you couldn't tell me. and i suppose, in time, i might be able to forgive you.
i only hope that you will ever be able to forgive me.