I'm selfish & I'm sorry.

I was hoping that the sun in Kansas would be different... That maybe I could burn away this "missing you" feeling. Or that I could swallow enough chlorine and you'd attend my funeral. But last night, Utah welcomed me  with open arms and today the sun looks the same. And I wish that didn't hurt so much. I wish you'd stop leaving, because I feel like our time is running out.

I wish I didn't feel like our time was running out.  

I wish my dad was as happy as he was in Kansas. I wish more people believed in mermaids. I wish more people liked cats. I wish Barnes and Nobles would let me take books for free. I wish 11:11 wishes came true. I wish poetry was easy. I wish growing up wasn't a real thing. I wish the mountains could talk, because I feel like they'd tell me beautiful things.  I wish the sun in Kansas was different. 

And I wish I didn't feel like our time was running out. 

But you've got a clock attached to your forehead, and your eyes keep reflecting September 22nd, and I can't look at you without crying. And when the water hits my mouth it tastes like memories... They're running down my arms and pooling at my feet.  

The bed starts to float,

and my pillows are drenched. 

The bathtub is full,

and the electricity is failing.

...I'm failing...

...I'm falling...

Part of me wishes I could make you stay...

And part of me wishes you'd leave tomorrow...

Because watching you move on is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, and forcing myself to do the same is almost harder.

We'll walk our paths alone and let fate decide if they meet again, and I'll write you and fate every day in hopes that my letters make a difference.