This is one beginning that I don’t want.
This story has been written a thousand times before in a thousand different ways, but in the end, it all ends the same way. One of us is hurt, and the other floats on. I refuse to be either.
I could tell you all the things that have crossed my mind since you crossed my eyes, but what good will it do? There is nothing good to be gained from saying what my heart has been coming up with since we met.
I’ve been down this road too many times, and I’m tired of losing more than I gain.
I’ll see a million other faces, and some of them will remind me of you, but you’re supposed to be a memory; a footprint in the shadow of my consciousness that will never have been anything more than a nudge in the direction that my life is taking. That’s all you ever can be to me. That’s all that you ever should be.
The same source of joy can become a same source of anguish; the bright light that leads to the path of the blind. I must remain clear. That is the road I have chosen for myself.
You will lead your life, and I will lead mine. I will remember you, but I wonder if you’ll remember me. I suppose it really doesn’t matter, does it?
Take your beginning with you when you leave. This is a story which has been told too many times.