Confession

I don’t even know how to say this without sounding weak…

but I need to say it anyway.

I don’t want to let you go.

That’s the truth.

But I see it now — I got no play no more.

No room, no chance, no “what if.”

So I guess this is me wishing you the best… even though it hurts.

When I see that red truck pull up,

my heart hurts a little bit.

Every time.

‘Cause my mind goes back to when I took you home —

even though it was only three times,

they replay like a whole lifetime in my head.

You were never really mine,

but you felt like something I wasn’t ready to lose.

I knew you had someone waiting,

I still stayed longer than I should’ve.

That part’s on me.

I don’t blame you.

I never could.

You didn’t promise me forever —

I just caught feelings in borrowed moments.

I hope he treats you like the queen you are.

I really do.

I hope he treats you well,

holds you right, keeps you safe,

does all the things I was never supposed to try to be for you.

And even though I gotta step back now,

even though I’m letting this fade,

I’m always gonna be rooting for you.

Quietly.

From a distance.

This is me giving up, not ‘cause I stopped caring,

but ‘cause I finally understand my place.

No more late-night talks,

no more hoping you’ll choose me,

no more pretending my heart doesn’t feel what it feels.

I don’t want to let go…

but I am.

So yeah —

I wish you the best.

And I’ll carry the rest.