I used to write for fear of forgetting. I stopped writing for fear of remembering. Your arms loosening from around me as you said final thoughts of us. Your taillights trailing down the street. Mirroring the floodgates from my eyes.
Now I have the typewriter you gave me. An incessant reminder of all the words I never said. All the words that are too late to make up for time lost.
I wrote to you anyway.
Without the intention of winning you. Only hoping not to lose you, the only person who could scare the **** out of me and make me feel like I was floating using one stupid look that made me fall ceaselessly and unnervingly in love with you.
I wanted you to know that all of my convictions that true love and fate were just lies that are spoon-fed to us so that we aren't starved by an empty life, it all wavered when you smiled at me.
I want to tell you that I used to never have dreams and now you're in all of them. Making reality that much harder.