The three poems I have made private here are all about you.
It seems like everything about my opinion of you is some kind of private matter.
I still care about you.
I think you're amazing.
Maybe I still love you.
But not in the same way I used to.
I'm sorry I'm not worth all that much nowadays.
I just wanted you to know that I'm going into therapy soon.
You said I needed to "sort myself out".
I've been through a lot of things that shouldn't have happened to good people like us.
Or maybe I was never that good person.
Who am I kidding?
You're not reading this.
Last time you did, things went wrong and now all those poems are private.
I can't even muster up any courage to say "hi" in any situation.
So I won't.
Makes things easier.
Sorry I didn't try harder.
Sorry I wasn't there.
Sorry I called you late at night.
Sorry I still remember the circus.
Sorry I still want to send you gifts for your birthday and Christmas.
Sorry I didn't say anything the right way or even at the right time.
Anyways... talk later?
Or never I guess.
You'll be busy.
And I have a therapy session to go to.