What if
your loneliness
pushed me
into a choice
I didn’t want to make yet.

What if,
as I look back on it,
I realize
I chose too soon.

What if
the crying
and goodbyeing
were caused by you thinking
in your mind
it would probably
happen eventually.

What if
I was confused
again
about what I wanted,
where I wanted to live,
how I wanted to be.

What if
you had said
nothing;
had let it play out;
had let me figure me out.

What if
you didn’t know
a few days later
that I’d look at your photos
and want to go
back
to where I was before,
before all the
what ifs
happened.

What if you
were wrong.