FASHION, ENTREPRENEURSHIP & LIFESTYLE

If I could write you an email,
I'd start with: I'm sorry.
For not honoring your ask right away.
It doesn't make it right,
but I couldn't bear the thought
of never telling you that I love you.

That I fell for you— deeply, powerfully, purely.

If I could write you an email,
I'd tell you are the only person
who has ever made my heart stop like that.
And I've met plenty of people.

I'd tell you I still listen to our Fireflies recording.
Not as often as February…
but there are parts I still replay
just to hear your laugh again.

I'd tell you that I miss you more than anyone
I've ever lost— whether to death
or just time.

If I could write you an email,
I'd say that I forgive you.
But you don't owe me an apology.

I’d ask to see you again—
just to see you smile.
to look into your eyes.

I'd say I would've loved a proper goodbye
if goodbye is what you were really giving me.

I'd tell you truthfully—
I haven't let you go.
Not even close.
How do you let go of what's once in a lifetime?
You don't. I won't.

If I could write you an email,
I'd tell you that November 19th
I wanted to say I was madly in love with you.
That I knew deep in my body
this was life-changing.
Even last July.
And from the very start.

I'd tell you about the feeling in my chest
when I saw the name of your new business,
and ask what you thought of mine.

I’d say: I hope we’ll naturally cross paths again.
Maybe cities this big don’t allow for that...
but God, I surely hope they do.

If I could write you an email,
I'd ask if you really didn't want me in your life
or if it just terrified you...
to face what this meant.
Because it would change everything.

I'd tell you:
I don't normally do romance.
And I'm terrified of giving up
just before you come back,
for I know what we could be.
And I believe that God gave you to me.

I'd ask:
If I should hold on...
Or would it'd be easier on you if I let you go?
I'd do whatever was best for you.
It would hurt, but it's true.

I'd ask if you even knew
how much it all meant...
to feel safe enough to soften
to have met someone just like you,
someone just like me.

I'd tell you:
You saw me.
You changed me.
You strengthened me.

If I could write you an email,
I'd say you were the beginning
of something real, and pure— 
it was holy.
You were the beginning, and my end.
You were my best friend.

If I could write you an email,
I'd say all of that—
And I'd tell you that I love you.
And that I never stopped.

If I could write you an email...
But I can't.

So for now...
I'll write off Randolph, above the city’s hum,
and lay down my heart when the words come.
Kept in spaces that echo what's true,
in silence with God and hopefully, you too.

L