Letter to a friend

How do you tell someone they just aren't enough anymore?

It wasn't you and it wasn't me, maybe the moon pulls more than the tide, and honey I'm tired. 

Organic milk but not friendship. I'm sorry.  We planned A like we wouldn't need B, 

but fate intervened and now I don't know where to sit. 

Does anyone know the conversion rate of how fast time can heal twelve years? 

I know it's somewhere in-between a pathetic life and Saturday night. 

11:11 never did it for me and maybe that's why we're here, watching the lightning and listing to another apology ft. me.

My heart requires an extension chord because getting too close can leave marks, and I don't know how many more of those it can handle. 

I'm afraid the infection has spread because we haven't talked in weeks and I'm starting to call you mom. 

Try not to think of it as collateral damage because I'm doing this for both of us.
I'm doing this for both of us. 

Maybe one day I'll find a cure and you will be the first to know so don't wander too far, maybe just an I-Love-You away.
Because I miss those moments, and when they return remember to take me like your tea, often and with ease.
Mr. Frost failed to mention there are multiple roads less traveled and maybe that's why I've gotten lost so many times.

You were always enough.
I know that now. And because I do I hope to see you soon.



Yours truly-Elizabeth Grant