I wish I knew if you still read these.
I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.
But I write these mostly for you.
The ones I write for me you'll never see.
I write these hoping you will see them and be willing to accept me for who I am,
Knowing I made mistakes and that I am aware,
Knowing I want the chance to try again.
I know you aren't going to come running back into my arms like I dream you would,
But could you at least walk back into my life?

I miss our talks.
I know I have a special talent at messing them up,
But you should know I don't mean to.
I improve after each mess up, learning from my mistakes.
So if you could give me one more chance (or a million like I'll probably need),
I would be grateful.

But you've already done enough for me,
And I don't expect another chance.
I've already had more chances than I deserve.
But if you could find some way to give it, I promise I won't abuse it.
I will cherish it as much as I cherish you,
More if that's even possible.
I miss you.