How did you lose her?

How did you lose her?

“I didn’t”
I said with a bittersweet smile.

“I didn’t lose her because she was never mine. She almost was, but somehow she wasn’t.”
Deep breaths

“She has my mind, body and soul and still that isn’t enough”

“She could’ve loved me, you know. And I did love her, I think, as best as you can love someone who isn’t yours. But that was all a ‘could’ve’, not a ‘did’ ”
“And God, does that hurt”

“I am not sure how much I’ve lost, but she lost someone who cared for her more than anyone ever will”
Deep breaths

“If she had been mine, at least I would’ve gotten some clarity out of it, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t, so all i can think about is that she could’ve. That she almost did, and I think this hurts the most”

“I was almost good enough for her, but not quite. She almost loved me, but somehow it all got screwed up. And I’ll never get as much clarity as I would’ve if I had gotten to call her mine. Because maybe then there would’ve been a definite reason. But instead I just keep wondering what I did wrong.”


“And it just hurts that we were so, so close to the finish line, but we never made it across.
never made it across.”

5:30 AM

5:10 AM



When I was 9 years old I began making a list of things that terrify me, and I started out writing things such as thunderstorms, bee stings, monsters, and darkness. As I grew older my list did, too and the things I fear now are entirely different; for death, illness, the unknown and, most recently, you are what now keeps me up at 3 A.M