nothing about these moments feel fair,
time keeps passing and i fear that i am growing younger,
that i am becoming more childlike.
i feel small again, like i need to be held.
i tell myself i forgive you,
but i fear the resentment that threatens to surface,
and i'm terrified that it doesn't matter anyway.

i still love you. i don't know if i'll ever stop.
maybe you need me more now than ever,
because i need you, too.
but i fear this nostalgia only exists in my mind,
and i'm terrified that it doesn't matter anyway.