Sometimes when I watch the city lights

slowly die to give way for the night,

or listen to songs you wrote about me

as I stand in the backroom window in my apartment,

I wonder if you’ve forgiven me

for all the times I didn’t love you as much

when you were still here with me holding my hands.

 

I know it has heen a busy couple of months

with everything happening all at once,

how time was so fast when we were together,

but I wonder if you know that we can slow down now.

I wonder if you now understand the concept of time,

and what I meant when I said it was not ours.

 

Remember when I asked you if you love me,

and for a moment you hesitated,

I wonder if you know that I have forgiven you

and that I understand it was not

that you didn’t love me,

but it was because you were afraid.

 

I hope that when you think about us,

you won’t think of me as a sad memory.

Because I don’t. Because we both know

that in this current space and time,

the universe won’t allow us to be together.

 

I wonder if you smile knowing that

maybe in a parallel universe or in an alternate reality,

or somewhere further than our timeline,

I can love you enough, and you won’t have to let me go.