random short stories

Cover

I was always too slow with getting undressed. And too fast to cover up. And never quite good enough to tell if I looked perfect to you. But I accepted that and went out. I accepted that I could never speak in your favorite accent. I accepted even if I could, you wouldn't like it. I realised, and I accepted.

Like how I did when you began to date her. I hated it. I couldn't hate you though, so I accepted it. But I could never really move on. I always had this hope I would be enough. I never was. Not even now. But I was there. And for some reason, you didn't ignore that. So here I sit. And you look good. You're in your best outfit. So am I, but you're not looking at me. And I watch her walk down the aisle. I watch her live out my wish. I watched and I tried to smile. But I stared at you. Are you happy? You look happy. I hope you're happy. But I think this is too much. I think I need to leave. For good. So, I guess this is a really informal goodbye. You always liked the view from the bridge. I think I'll become apart of it. Then, just maybe, you'll like me, too.