The moonlight played with his face
So I couldn’t tell if he was mournful
Or just honest

Oh, the unique grief at realizing you are not
who you thought you were.

Maybe this is love.
Maybe I am wrong.
Maybe I need more time.
Maybe there is nothing better.
Maybe I am expecting too much.
Maybe I won’t find someone else.
Maybe I am making the wrong choices.
Maybe love is just a commitment and not a feeling.

The doubts stack up in my mind until I am desperate to find a way to undo and re-decide every decision I have ever made.

I think everyone
has someone
they should have told something to