A Note

Sometimes it will be a note

A piece of paper, folded and tucked away

I had stared at it for weeks

Trying to talk myself into giving it to you

All of the memories, driving me insane

But, I refused

A drive home, ended up being longer

The sun was out, my enjoyment

I found myself outside your door

You weren't home, I was glad

Playing with that folded paper, I panicked

You'll be home soon

I needed to leave before you do

I stuck the paper in your door

It had one sentence, it was all you need

"I'm sorry, I still do."

Author's Note

I actually did do this the other day. Not that I wanted to, but sometimes a girl has to do the move the guy won't do.