I wanted to love all of you. I wanted to be the reason you stopped cringing when your name was said. I wanted to be someone you could believe meant what they said when they called you beautiful. I wanted to show you that you were so much more than just beautiful. When existing tasted bitter I wanted to be your sweet relief. Why did we end up like this? We went from talking to radio silence, from evenings with warm laughter to chilling nostalgic nights. I wanted to spill myself out in front of you and not care about how messy things became, and I wanted you to do the same. I wanted you to let me in, but you just built more walls instead, adding more layers of brick until I could no longer scale them. You completely shut me out. Maybe the timing was off, and one day when we’re a little less broken or a little more reckless we’ll make sense. Or maybe not. I don’t know what the future holds. I used to think I did, or at least I hoped I was right about it, but I wasn’t in the end. Maybe I just wasn’t the one meant to brave your storm. Maybe I shouldn’t have hoped at all. Maybe your departure would’ve hurt less that way. It doesn’t really matter now, does it? You’re another crease I couldn’t iron out, another poem left unfinished. I don’t regret you, though. I don’t regret you.
— “I just wanted you to let me in.” // Maxwell Diawuoh