If you’re going to leave, that’s fine. I know you promised me you wouldn’t when you were whispering into my neck. But I also know that it rains hardest on those who deserve the sun and you said it was “always me and you, baby” and that you loved me to the stars and back. Well maybe the stars weren’t as far away as I thought they were.
If you’re gonna leave, it’s okay. But when you’re packing your things don’t forget to take back the days spent wrapped up in each other and the days we called in sick to work cos we couldn’t bear to leave. Don’t forget to pack up the hundred of photographs where we look like we couldn’t even begin to imagine what it feels like to hear the words “I don’t love you anymore”. Pack up every kiss, every white knuckled fist grasping my hair, every night you fell asleep on my chest and every single thing I ever wrote you.
I was never one to dwell on the past but it’s kind of hard when you swore to me that you were my future.
But, if you’re going to leave, that’s fine.