If you could read my mind, you wouldn't be smiling.

It's always harder to be the one who's left behind than the one who leaves.

After you leftI stared at the drivewayFeeling its emptinessWondering if you’d return.After you leftI thought about your questionsWishing I hadn’t been so bluntWondering if I scared you away.After you leftI remembered how you felt in my arms.How you fit so perfectly there. Like my guitar.Wondering if I should have kissed you when I had the chance.After you leftI sat in my roomRemembering all the things you said, andWondering about all the things you didn’t.After you leftI sat in silence.Missing you in a way I didn’t quite understand.Wondering if you’d ever come back.

It's me, asking him to let me in. Asking all of them to give a chance to show them that, deep down, I'm not who they think I am. Or, maybe I'm exactly who they think I am, but I no longer want to be.

Mistakes. Trial and error. Same thing. Mistakes are how we learned to walk and run and that hot things burn when you touch them. You’ve made mistakes all your life and you’re going to keep making them.

And I know I need to invite him over for dinner, because there's no question. This is serious.

You look around at the people in your life, one by one, choosing to hold on to the ones who make you stronger and better, and letting go of the ones who don't.