It's nice to talk to you the way we've always talked to each other, only better, late last night. I think I've only had three or so hours of sleep but I regret nothing and I wish I hung up on you properly before I gave in to exhaustion instead of just going away like this: ----------. I've been saying goodbye to you for years only to say hello the exact same number of times that I'm starting to question the point in all of it.

Last night I kept saying, "Thank you," but you couldn't figure out for what, and I wouldn't tell you because how could I say that "Thank you," was only a euphemism for what I really wanted to tell you, and although I can't think of how "I love you," could have ever been offensive, still it's something which wouldn't be right anymore, this time. 

I don't take back any of what I said or what I may have done in the past, because I can't, and all of it was true. Even the bad parts. 

All my life I've been taught of how sometimes, the best thing to do is letting people go, and oftentimes it is, but I've met people who I've tried to let go of more times than I can remember only for them to keep coming back so maybe I'm not meant to let any of you go after all.