"If you love someome, let them go."
Easier said than done. How am I supposed to let you go? How do I unclench my fists, how do I unhook my hands, how do I unstitch my heart? I was never good at taking things apart; I only ever knew how to keep them together.
"If they come back, they're yours..."
Coming back. This quote fails to acknowledge all the lost time in between leaving and returning. All the days that run together like a mess you don't know how to clean up, the weeks that pass agonizingly slow, the months that go by without ever hearing from you.
I know how the quote goes, I know how it ends. Saying it out loud tends to turn my stomach and squeeze my heart until it hurts. I can't handle that possibility - the possibility of you never really being mine to begin with. It's a thought I won't let my mind try to rationalize. It's a theory I refuse to accept.
You were mine. We shared four amazing years of laughter, of adventure, of love. The days went by quickly and the weeks passed with ease, each month came and went without any attention from us. Time didn't matter.
It hardly existed at all.
You were mine. I loved you beyond a reason why, beyond pride, beyond fault or mistake. I loved you regardless of circumstance and without obligation. I loved you so much it consumed me. I loved you, and you were mine to love.
You were mine,
but maybe I was never yours.
"if they don't, they never were."