Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes I think about when we used to talk. We’d talk about dreams and fears and how real change could happen with a little time. But now more than a little time has gone by and now we don’t talk anymore. I try to remember all the things I wanted then. And all the things I want now and what’s different and what’s the same. I sometimes miss that dreaming we would do when we still talking. Before the avalanche came down and everything changed. When I believed in you and thought you believed in me.

Because even if things were wrong then and I knew about it, I didn’t yet know the full extent. I couldn’t possibly have. And even if I was without that knowledge, ignorant me was happy with the dreaming. She was happy with the talking. Sometimes those are the things we’re willing to trade. Talking instead of silence. Dysfunction instead of truth. Dreaming instead of leaving. A happy me for a happier you.

You can’t pick and choose the things you want in a person, but if I could, I’d pick the you who would let me rest my head on his chest and tell me the things he wanted to do.

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