It was a long drive.
You had begged me to stay.
But I had changed my mind.
I couldn't comfort you anymore.
It was the last time we spoke.
You'd asked me to read you Hemingway.
You asked what it meant.
I said "love, it wasn't fun any more."
Then we realized it was about us and no more words came out of our mouths.
Sometimes it's better to let go of the nights you can never get back.
Most times it's best to say no to a need to reinvent the past.
And now I know the heart doesn't need it only wants love. it only needs air.