“Maybe one day we’ll be sitting next to each other on the edge of the bed and you’ll tell me you love me. Maybe one day I’ll come surprise you on Sunday morning and your bedroom door will be locked. Maybe one day you’ll find my hair tie in your drawer and you’ll sleep with it around your wrist. Maybe one day I’ll meet a boy in a coffee shop and I’ll finally stop thinking about you. Maybe one day you’ll be waiting outside of my office with roses and you’ll tell me you miss me. Maybe one day we’ll pass each other in Grand Central and you’ll do a double take because my hair is darker now and you’ll wonder how I spent my last 6 months. Maybe one day I’ll find your soccer jersey in my closet and I won’t feel anything at all.”
You know what… I don’t think it was the timing or that we weren’t ready or that we were at different points in our lives or that your job was too demanding. I think if you put us anywhere at any time at any age, it still would have turned out the same. We just weren’t meant to be and that was the only problem.