I was always the one to leave first. It felt like I was being rushed somehow. But now that I think about it, I know why I always left so soon: I didn’t want to have to watch you walk away. But I was the one looking back with every step I took, wishing you’d come outside…but you had no idea and now I’m wondering if that night in September was my last chance.

I was in tears as I left the building. I had to walk away from the crowd to have a minute to myself, all while looking back at where I knew for sure you were. I cried on my walk to the train. I woke up feeling uneasy. But you know what?

I wouldn’t trade it for anything. If this whole thing has taught me anything, it’s that I am capable of feeling such intense emotions. I am alive.

I just wish you would come home. Stay. Please.



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