I don’t have regrets, I have realities to face.

I miss you. And I don't know why.

At night I lay in bed and cry about you. Cried myself to sleep three days last week.

And I could tell you about it, but why?

To what end?

Ours?

It's hard to end what has never really started. Useless to hit the breaks on a relationship that never left the starting line.

It's obvious you don't wonder what you miss, when there have been so many opportunities but we've never so much as kissed.