For my “you.”

My mother once told you she didn’t know how you put up with me. (The following isn’t about that, but thanks, mom.)

So you did all the right things. Most of them. Things I didn’t or couldn’t do. Most of what a girl could want. And what could be more than that?

It was there. You know the word I’m thinking of. We had a world. Comfort. Security. Did you save me? No. That comes from God. Do you think you saved me? I wonder sometimes.

(For the record, I have never saved anyone.)

It worked until it didn’t. We spun until we stopped. I jumped off that tilt-a-whirl first. But it wasn’t that simple.

“So why jump, Cait? You gave up the sure thing, and for what?”

I needed to know things. Know ME. I might not like what I found. But I had to turn that rock over.

I also knew another thing: I loved someone else.

I was sorry for it every second.

I didn’t know how to handle the fact that I didn’t want what I was SUPPOSED to want anymore.

This was my world.

The world that began with you was now ending.

Can’t believe it’s almost been a decade.

I know you still think about it. You let go of “us”, but not me. I will never regret you, but I can’t say the same.