She had started it and then stopped a multitude of times. It was too late now. She couldn’t send it. The messages and words piled up in her like snow. Light at first but eventually the weight felt crushing.

It was too late. He was married.

Her mind skipped to all the moments and crossroads that couldve been. That could’ve made things different.

This text. This message was not one of them.

They had both gone too far down the crossroads and she wasn’t sure if it would ever lead back to each other again.

They rolled over in her chest. He was the only one who ever made her feel things in such a rainbow of ways.

They felt almost everything together but now…they never talked.

She thought about the things she wouldve said to him and sometimes she did talk to what she imagined would be him when she walked home alone. She sang to him. The words came pouring out, melodies.

She sighed when did it turn out that she would be the one nursing something so onesided?

When did the roles flip like this?