Dear Old Love

We’re ten years apart, but age was just a number for us.

You knew me like the back of your hand.
How I turned into a chatterbox when I was with you.
How I always fell silent when I was upset.
How I tried hard to keep it in so I wouldn’t say something I’d regret.
How we’d hug it out after our silenceΒ because some things were better left unsaid.

You understood me more than I did myself.

But I walked away.

We broke up over the phone because I knew I’d change my mind if I saw you.Β I refused to meet you because I knew I’d come running back to your arms.

I cried on the bus, and cried some more when I came home.

The days that followed were as empty as I felt inside.

Work, home, repeat.

I dated to forget.

And I did.

Time really heals all wounds.

But on some nights, I find myself looking up your name and staring at it more than I should, mentally debating with myself whether to call you or not.

I miss you.

You were my mentor, my bestfriend and my cheerleader. You were my number one supporter.

You were everything I had when I had nothing.

And I was everything you got when your world started to fall apart, but unlike you, I turned my back on you.

I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry I broke you.

I should’ve tried harder for both of us, but I chose to give you up. I was a fool for believing I wanted more. I didn’t want more, I just failed to see you were enough.


It’s like what they always say: what goes around, comes around.