And you don't want them back; this person you don't know anymore. And though you know you once did, you aren't sure when you stopped. You aren't sure at what point they zigged while you zagged, and you began to become strangers.
But you did become strangers. And you can't hold two hearts together when their feet face different directions.
And you hate yourself, months later for not being better yet. Not being capable of accepting love.
But you're just not.
The only consolation is that one day, you'll stand up, and wipe the dirt off your scraped knees, and take off running.
