Hey, it’s ok.

Hey you.
I’m sorry.
I wasn’t listening
when you tried to tell me,
in the best way you knew how,
I needed a life of my own.

I willingly threw a lot of energy into a life with you
and I thought it was working.
Because from what I chose to see,
we were happy.
For the most part.

I felt like we had something special.
Something that people around us didn’t understand.
Because from what I chose to believe,
we were worth it.
For the most part.

But what about those other few parts?
The parts that I knew were missing.
The parts that pushed us apart.

You said over and over again,
“We need to have our own lives.”
All I heard was,
“I don’t want a life with you.”
Hindsight is funny.
We don’t get it until
whatever we’re looking at
is behind us,
I’m hearing it differently now.

So now that time has passed,
I know we did the best we could.
We loved each other the best way we knew how.

We’re getting “better”.
Leveling up.
Taking care of ourselves.
Whatever you want to call it.

I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.
For that- I can’t possibly be mad at you.
In fact for that- I will always love you.
It’s a different sort of love than we used to have.
I think my love for you will always be there.
It’s just changing.
And that’s ok.

There are days where it’s hard for me.
It’s ok.

There are days where I want so badly to reach out,
to get a little taste of our old romance.
And sometimes I do.
It’s ok.

It’s hard but it gets easier.
I’ve done this before.
Love is fucking hard.
I don’t like the idea of letting love go
but I can let it change.
It’s ok.

I want you to have
the most brilliant life.
I want you to have
everything you ever dreamed of.
I want you to find someone
who you can’t live without.
You will.
And so will I.

That’s what I tell myself.
I guess what I’m trying to say is
it’s ok.
I’m ok.

All my love,


I don’t write for you.
I write because of you.
You did what was best for you.
You said it was best for me.
You pushed me away.
I am writing you away.
It’s easy for you to be selfish?
It’s hard for me to be selfish.


As human beings,
As emotional beings,
our hearts have a limited capacity.
our hearts have an unlimited capacity.
Some push their bodies-
Some limit their hearts-
I’m no Olympian.
I’m a romantic.


I am in awe of parents.
I  am confused by parents.
Parents are superheroes.
Parents are masochists.
Children are a gift.
Children are a burden.
Parents are teachers.
Parents are also students.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to help my parents understand how grateful I am for them.
Thank you, Mom and Dad, for existing.
For finding each other.
For raising me the way you did.
Thank you.
I need better words and until I figure it out, all I can say is thank you.
Oh, how about this?

I love you.