We aren’t a part of each other’s lives anymore,
and we haven’t been for a long time.
There has been enough grace period
for me to get over it,
but we all know
I’m the last to let go.
I think about how
we used to write stories
of the lives we wanted
right before we fell asleep;
I wonder too often
if once we looked back,
we’d laugh at how far we’ve drifted.
We are lighthouses at opposite ends
of the sea, calling each other home,
but there are too many miles between us
And maybe this is all too late to say,
maybe these are things that can no longer change
and we can’t come back the way we want to,
but I want you to know that I don’t think our pinky promises
were ever meant to end.
I hope you know
I never stopped missing you.
I hope you’ve found your right story.