You’re still here. After everything’s been said and done, and when I thought it was over.
You’re back. You’re here.
When you said goodbye and good luck, I said to myself, “Finally. I can move.” Space.
The absence of you would have helped. Even though I didn’t want you to leave.
On and on we went. I went. Smiling outside, screaming inside, a whirlwind of events.
And just as sure as the winds blow, there you were again. Such cruel circumstances.
I avoided you when I could, you know. Every look and smile from you would squeeze a little more out of me. You delight in torturing me, I think.
Somehow, some way, the gods of fate would always intertwine our lives and map out our steps. For everything I did to try and break away from you, a little whisper from the witches of destiny would put you in front of me.
Then I found out. At about the same time I let one go, so did you let him go. What is this? Who is writing this story? Why are you still around? Why don’t you just leave me be?
When you walked to my side and spoke to me. When you grabbed my arm. When you gave me that look. When you would smile at me. When you would wave and say goodbye. When you asked them out to drink and I saw how you hesitated and stopped before asking me. When I asked them and you to drink and I thought you weren’t coming but you did anyway. When you suddenly followed me to the elevator just to chat.
What in the world are you doing? Don’t do this to me. No more games. You know very well the door isn’t locked. And regardless if it were, you have the damn key. I’d probably hold the door open too. But if you have no intentions of coming home, then make it clear. And give me back my key.
It doesn’t matter to me who you’re with, whatever crazy nonsense you’re up to.
I would retrace the stars again for you.