He’s jealous because she’s moved on. He’s insecure because she finally seems happy. He’s regretful because he realized he wasted his time thinking up things that’d never happen instead of telling her how much she’s worth to him.

I can’t forgive myself for leaving until I can forgive myself for letting a guy like you slip away.

I’d like to think I never did those things or never said that to you, but the truth is that I did and that’s a part of me. I make mistakes, and I know who I am because of them. I lost you because of it.

I’m mad at myself, not you. I’m mad for always being nice, for apologizing when I didn’t do anything wrong, for getting attached, and for making you a huge part of my life.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I never left all those times. I’m not going to lie. You surely saw me at my best and loved me at my worst.

Two teardrops were floating down a river. The first one asked, “Who are you from?” She replied, “I’m from a girl whose man left her. Who are you from?” He replied, “I’m from the man who regrets letting her go.”

We look at each other, wondering what the other is thinking, but we don’t say a damn thing. There’s another chance to do what I really want to do, and I missed it again.

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