A Letter To You

We’ve known him just as long. You, his on-and-off girlfriend who could always tell I was a little bit more than a friend to him. And me, in some kind of perpetual purgatory, unable to call him “friend” because whether he is less or more is still undecided.

You’ve been his “girlfriend” twice. And yet he and I have talked nearly every night for the last three years. Who has the upper hand here?

I honestly can’t decide. He’s the one I want to run away and commit bank robberies with. Sometimes, I want to pick him up, and wipe ourselves off the face of the earth.

You probably want to be his Misses. You want to walk down the aisle, watch him lift the veil, bind together forever.

But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want either of us.