We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.
How weird it is to think I used to not know of your existence. I somehow lived my life without ever knowing you were a person. Once we met though, god I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since. It’s hard to imagine I used to be able to live my life without you consuming my head with thoughts.
And I began to let him go. Hour by hour. Days into months. It was a physical sensation, like letting out the string of a kite. Except that the string was coming from my center.
I want to be like water. I want to slip through fingers, but hold up a ship.