This is
The least you deserve.
But I don't know if I can do it.
I probably shouldn't have written that letter
When I finally found you,
I'd probably have been happier
With my past unsullied by reality and change,
But I never could leave well enough alone.
So here I am,
Trying again to say what I don't understand,
Gesturing mutely with a vague hope that your life has been as
good as mine
And hoping almost hopelessly
That your memories of me
Are as good as the ones I have of you.
I like to think
That we gave each other hope
And pain
And strength
And managed somehow to keep each other from drowning.
Notes: You know who you are. :) You're personally responsible for my Jazz Butcher fixation, y'know...