I want to type “why would someone unblock me after three years?” into the nearest search engine to try to make sense of all of this.
I have spent the last three years wishing for this moment, and now that it is here, I am not sure what to do with myself.
I’m sitting here trying to convince myself that it must be a mistake.
It must be my mind playing tricks on me again.
Maybe Instagram unblocks people after a designated amount of time.
This couldn’t possibly be what you wanted.
I’ve spent the last three years trying to pick back up where we left off, but so far, every beginning has just been another dead end.
Behind every door is just a brick wall. And behind every brick, there’s cement.
I will never make it out of here.
I’ve spent the last three years trying to convince myself that I was delusional to think that someone like you could have ever wanted someone like me.
I’ve spent the last three years trying to forget how I felt every time I looked into your eyes.
I’ve spent the last three years just trying to forget.
I would give anything to tell you that. Those simple words are the only thing I wish for these days.
Forgiveness. The chance to start over.
The chance to be who we were before.
Before that night in bed.
Before you met the love of your life.
Before I realized that it would never be me.
Before I told you Merry Christmas.
Before you dropped your beer on the stairs at Clark and Lake.
Before we ever made eye contact.
Before, when we were actual strangers,
Instead of two people who have just grown estranged.
And if you’re reading this, I’m sorry.
And if you want to talk again, I’ll be here.
And if you’re ready,
So am I.