Perfectly Imperfect Me

I don’t chase after people anymore.

I don’t panic when I see them fading, barely an outline in life.

A text replied a week later, a few words echoed when I am already gone.

I have slowly learned to let things go.

I have always hated running, but I have run after people my entire life.

“Hey, you forgot your coat!”

You forgot me………………………

It is sad to think I am used to people leaving, having one foot in, and the other always out.

But then I tell myself, I have run after people through the darkness that used to inhabit every day.

When I could barely get up every morning, I made sure to send a text, “Have a good day!” Or scribble a quick note with hearts, “You’ll do great!”

I am used to people leaving, but people are used to me chasing them.

I won’t anymore.

If people really cared, then maybe they wouldn’t run.

Maybe they would stay and say, “I’m here.”

I’m tired of seeing people just disappear around a bend, to be with girls who are nothing like me or to be friends with someone who is not a person I can be.

Because the truth is, when I saw your outline became just a shadow as you walked away, I realized something.

You were leaving because I refused to say goodbye.

I refused to believe the reality, and accept the truth.

I refused to believe that you were all grown up, and leaving.

And so you can to leave.

It was not a choice that either one of us could make: you had to go.

Your future was gleaming brightly, and I was a person who was both parts of your past, and future.

I just had to choose whether or not I wanted to be part of your future.

Whether or not I was willing to let go, with the confident knowledge you were still there.

I couldn’t see you, but when I needed you, you would come.

I had to infinite trust that you would come back, and this was not goodbye, but a parting with a promise.

 

 

 

 

I have learned to let people go, and I have also learned to let people in. To let them stay. My heart is an inn that can never be full, and accept that some people won’t visit my inn because they don’t want to. They have found a fancier one, a more normal one. But something I have to realize is this: Even though I can’t see you, and it feels like you are gone, you are not. You are just around the bend, experiencing a future that is both wonderful and bittersweet. It is my choice if I to want to go around that bend, with the trust you will be waiting. Another thing I have realized is that just because my heart is an inn, does not guarantee people will stay. But whoever they are, they will always have a room, because letting go is not always forgetting: It is remembering that the people who really love you, will go around that bend, and call to you. They will make you want to take that bold and beautiful step. And the ones that help you around the bend, are the ones who believe you can do anything, and love anyone.