It was just you and me. Until it wasn't.
maybe we were in love, but could never admit it. There was just enough baggage to pretend there was none at all. Like we sacrificed it all to be who we were together, but not enough to admit we wanted to be...us.
I never knew what to call what we had. So I just left it at that and defined it by the coyotes, the long hikes, and alternative rock. I could never read your eyes. Green and broken. The fragmented refractions pleading me to piece them back together. The nights I promised not to leave.
The night I did, and didn't turn back.
Like apparitions in lost museums, you come back from time to time. Remind me of who I was, and who I am. It's like you're the farthest away, but always right there. Like maybe you'll never go away.
Like maybe you were never gone.
But I'm hoping you're finding yourself. Somewhere out there. Finding that missing piece that was lost between the floorboards, or in between your eyes. I hope you realize that you had it in you all along to be whatever you wanted to be. And know that I've let you go, but love you still in every sunset.