Six years ago, I walked away from the girl who gave me a reason to live when all I wanted to do was give up.
She was the person who kept fighting for me when I did nothing but shove her away. I spent my days trapped by demons that didn't even belong to me and all of my nights trying to drown them.
They slowly ate away at my heart until I knew that I had to give her up. She deserved happiness, something I definitely couldn't give her.
That day I walked out of her life and told her I never wanted to see her again, it fractured my soul.
I'll never forget the look in her eyes—the sadness—the emptiness.
The truth is, I didn't know how to be loved. I probably still don't.
At least now I'm willing to learn, even if the only time I feel close to her is with my head in the clouds.
I'm back in town to face everyone I left behind.
I never expected to see her, especially not with a five-year-old attached to her hand.
Now that I've seen her, I'll die trying to show her I'm not that boy that she knew. Not anymore.