Please give back what is not yours to have
It's the only thing that I've got left
It never was enough to satisfy
And I'm left empty
(From Flaw- Not Enough)

I sometimes wonder if things will ever get better. I do a lot of things differently now; though not as much for you as they used to be. I suppose this is what they call "getting over it", but I still wonder. And I still wonder if sometimes you aren't wondering how I've changed into this new person. I sometimes think you'd like her.

I used to do a lot of stupid things, I know. I suppose I still do most of these stupid things, but, I'd like to also think that I've changed for the better while I was at it. Would people call me a girly-girl now? I suppose they would. I've tried far too hard to change myself into someone I think that you would like to come back into, instead of changing into the person that made you walk away.

True, sometimes things are still hard, and I only wish that they could get easier. But, I know that's asking for far too much, but you always liked me better when I was hopeful anyway, didn't you? I try a lot of different things now to get my mind off of you, and that captivating smile. Never thought when I was younger that I'd ever cut the grass… and like it.

Maybe I like cutting the grass for other reasons too, though. It's actually pretty soothing, and there's a lot of time to think about everything- mostly things of you. I wonder… you always liked my long hair better. If I grew it out again, would you come back to me? I'm growing my hair out anyway, and actually liking it at its current length, but it'll only get longer, and I look forward to that. I suppose long hair isn't good on only boys to me anymore. Just like how I wear more skirts now. Skirts, skirts, skirts. There was that point in my life where you wouldn't catch me in shorts or skirts. I still don't wear shorts, but I can't get enough of wearing skirts. Does that make me more feminine then?

What else do I do now that you aren't here to take up my time? That's a silly question, I suppose, especially since I wrote you that letter telling you of all the things I do now, with no reply, mind you. I do so much so that way I can't think of you. That's my excuse anyway, but the truth is, I'll never be able to forget you, and for that reason, even in my busiest moments, I'm somehow thinking of you. Thinking of what I could to make you see me again? Or to make you come back to me, love me, or even the smallest task of talking to me again. They say that'll never happen, and I'll get over this heartbreak so soon. But, I wonder.

If I dated another boy, and rubbed it in your face, would you care? If my band and I became famous, and you heard our song on the radio, would know it was me singing about you? If I appeared on your doorstep in the rain, would you look at me with sadness in your eyes at what I've become? When I graduate, will that matter to you? Where I'll be in five years, will that matter to you?

Then, I think of other things, like those things you used to say. I can't understand how you could fall out of love with someone. Isn't that impossible? Especially when you said that you'd love me forever? So, does that mean you lied to me? Are all men like that? Saying things for no reason at all? Maybe in your case, to get that package full of your favorite gifts, only to turn and leave?

I also spend time thinking of all the different reasons for your leaving. It was your father, your mother, another girl, work, college. It was a number of things, or none of those things at all. But, when you refuse to give me an answer of reasoning, it becomes really hard to narrow options out, doesn't it?

Sometimes, I think of packing up one day, and going walk around your neighborhood, and see if you walk out that house and see me, and recognize me. Other times I imagine that ten years from now, we'll run into each other somewhere, and it'll be a magical reconnecting. Instead of dreaming of a future with you at my side, I dream of a future without your love, but in where you eventually come back. But, I was always a dreamer, wasn't I? I always dreamed of stupid things for you and I, and you followed along to make me happy, but I don't think you ever actually believed any of that. Is that possible? Perhaps. Though, I never thought of you to be that type of person. You were always the kindest, and you couldn't hurt anyone, physically, or verbally. I suppose sometimes that I took that for granted, but, to hear that voice full of empty coldness, I suppose that it hurt worse than the actual crime of your leaving me shattered.

I find it funny how as I'm thinking of things to say to you in my head, it's all coming out differently on paper. I suppose this is because I know that you don't care, and you'll never read it. I think I finally came to that conclusion, you know. You just don't care anymore, and its heartbreaking to think that, but I wonder if that isn't the truth. There's all so much I want to say to you, but I'm not telling you, I'm talking to my Word Processor, and so it isn't the same. Maybe that's why the things I so desperately want to say to you aren't coming out the way that I hoped.

Do you know that I still spend every night praying for you? For your well being? For your success?

I didn't think so.

I think that I'll always love you, because unlike you, I mean it when I say forever. And I'm willing to sacrifice a "forever" with someone else to wait for you to see the truth. I guess that's what happens when you're in love. Because…

Why does this song still remind me of you?

And why do I still cry when I read even one of the saved e-mails of your love?

Because...