The Package

There's a package waiting by the door. I've been avoiding it all weekend.

But it has to go.

Inside, it contains all the DVD's that he lent me. Some we enjoyed together, others I was going to watch but never got around to. The shirt he handed me to wear that I couldn't get enough of. I can still remember how his smell lingered on it, long after it came home with me.

I hate letting you go.

And I hate bringing you back. When I send this out, I have to be the better person. Rather than letting it show up on his doorstep without a warning, I need to send him a message.

So the box just keeps sitting there.

I'm afraid that he'll respond and I'm afraid that he won't. Whether he does or not, it'll hurt just the same. Sending this box out feels like the last goodbye.

He wants to be friends; I'm not sure I can.

My dreams are in that box. Something I've never experienced with anyone else before. I've been let go and proceeded to get up early the next morning and take a run...like nothing ever happened. But something did happen this time, I gave my heart away.

So tomorrow I'll send him the box and just hope that he sends my heart back in return.