I'm writing to let you know That I'm okay now. And that I'm finished being dramatic. And that you really aren't a horrible person. Because people make mistakes; And who am I to hold that against you When I've made a billion of my own? You really were a breath of fresh air, An eye-opener. A ray of sunshine, Color. And though it, We, Were short-lived, A part of you still lives inside of me. And I don't think I mind that one bit, No matter how much of a front I may put on that suggests otherwise. Something in your voice tugged at me. Something about your words was so melodic. Something about your personality thrilled my timid heart, Reviving this deceased belief in a thing called love, That maybe this time, It was my turn. You've taught me more than I credit you for. And that bitter taste is dissolving from my mouth. I would've loved to be yours —"Your Eric." But the gamble we so recklessly took Worked against us. Fate and destiny did not permit for two young hearts To completely intertwine, Immerse, In that unforsaken realm Where everything really is perfect. I don't regret any of it. At all. It was simply my defense, And I'm sorry. I really do miss you, José, And can't wait to be able to see you, Actually be friends. But please don't mistake this as an attempt to rekindle that connection. It's merely my way of letting you know That I'm okay now.
copyright 2011
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