Sometimes I think that the only way we could make it work is if we went back to being strangers. And re-write everything,
We’d meet and introduce each other. You’d follow my nervous gestures as I run my fingers through my hair, and I’d laugh at your jokes.
The conversations will be long, so will the walks. You’ll learn about my life and find every insignificant detail from my past fascinating because it made me the way I am today. And I will cherish the man you’ve come to be through heartaches and struggles.
We’ll create new memories. This time we’ll be careful not to stop hiding our flaws and let everything fall apart like the first time.
But, most of all, you’ll do better at hiding the other women, and I – at pretending it doesn’t bother me.