Push

I know I pushed you away last night, writing You things that were unkind, after an intimate night Spent over cocktails and dinner.

I wonder if I’m more comfortable living A life without you, but yearning your presence, Than a life with you, where we might grow Close, and you might see all of me.

Maybe I prefer to crave the beautiful memory Of what was, than risk a present and future Where we fall apart because I was not the right One for you.

I think I wrote those words because I love you Too much to think of you as a closed chapter in Our lives.

I love you so much, that I’d rather have us be a Broken pen, and torn paper - an unfinished ode to A love that could have been so many things.