You don’t appear to me often, but as I’m looking down the road I know you lived on, I can’t help but see you. June. 4 years in the past, but another time that it seems I found what I’d been looking for and let it go.

Walls and insecurities so thick, I never thought I’d make it through them, but given enough time, you slowly inched me in. The countless nights sleeping on the couch until you had to go home. The days we spent traveling to GoodWills; buying everything we thought was iconic. The best of which being a Bob Ross lunchbox. Do you still have it to this day? Does it hold your art supplies? Do you still hold me in your heart or did you decide to let go years ago?

You wrote down every reason you thought we should stay together and while I listened to you list them all off, I was solely focused on escaping and getting to my friends. My friends and the girl I wanted instead of you. The girl that I lost not even a month later.

So many wrong choices. So many times I picked them over you. The path of least resistance is most times the best one, but I’m too stupid to realize what’s right in front of me 10 out of 10 times, huh?

Was I able to make you happy? Was that happiness worth the pain I brought you afterwards? No. No, I don’t think it was.