we're all young.

It's okay to say you made a mistake.  I did too, and I'll do it again, and I would too.  If we could choose the way we feel wouldn't we choose to be happy?  If we wanted to be and it was that easy, who would choose another way to live?  There's something inside me that must make the most of every opportunity, chase every wild love, give you my all, try to make puzzle piece clasp however I deem fit.  And if I fail, then it's over, and we drink to moving on.  I'm growing, I'm learning, I'm changing.  Rearranging.  What's important, who to keep close and which arm to use to create distance?  Not working on that backwards kind of feeling, acting on an urge to let you know I'm missing you, later than I'd desire but probably just about the hour you'd imagine.  I can't say I didn't try my damnedest, and I'd be lying if I said this hasn't happened a few times before.  But someday, things will click.  And we'll feel it.  Until then, here's to failing miserably, losing sleep over words you can't change, crying over what I wish I would have said... and when it's all said and done, kicking myself out of dumpsville and getting back to me.