A letter to you.

I hope the next time we run into each other, whether that's tomorrow or twenty years from now, I'm with someone new. And for once YOU look back. YOU remember what is was like to hold my hand, to kiss me, to be with me. I hope it's you because for the past few months now, it's always been me. I text you when I know you're having a bad day and I ask if you're okay. As if I am supposed to care. Like it's just fine for me to say hung up but you can go running around with new girls every fucking night. It's fine. Because one day you will look back and try to find me but by then, I will be way too far ahead. When you see me ahead of you, smiling with someone new maybe you'll realize that you'll never get back what you gave up.