So this was something I wrote at like midnight. Just something to deal with some stubborn emotions that I couldn't shake. So I'm sorry if this sucks. :/

Violet's Pov:

Why was moving on so hard?

Why were there so many words left unsaid?

Why did it still feel like I was a part of something if we had called everything off?

Every waking minute I was left missing what could have been. Something that was so close, yet just out of my reach. Like a wisp of smoke that could be seen, but without something physical to grasp all you could manage was to coil it around your hand before it was whisked away in the wind.

I guess nothing was ever set in stone except the bitter end. But when you live your life on what if's was there ever really an ending you could be so sure of? I thought I knew what I had, or what we could have been, but I guess I was wrong again.

Now it was all I could think about. It was a constant question nagging in the back of my mind. I knew I'd never get any sort of peace until I dealt with this. And even if it didn't fix everything, at least I could get everything out there instead of living with all of these pent up feelings and questions. I knew she probably had her own shit to deal with, but this was the best way to clear up things without everything spiraling into utter chaos.

We kind of left everything up in the air with the way we ended things. There were no hurt feelings, it was almost a neutral feeling if anything. Nothing really lost or gained on either side. It was like ending things without it being official. Though that didn't help, because there was still that lingering feeling and the sensation of burning questions that constantly plagued the mind into uncertainty. So I was hoping that this might get the point across with verbal words that I couldn't express and offer some sort of closure.

So I pulled out a blue pen and set a sheet of lined paper down on the kitchen table. I sat down and just stared at the blank page for a second. I can't fix the past mistakes, but maybe I could explain what I felt through it all. So I wrote a letter to the one who had captured my heart, but who I couldn't hold onto forever.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you. Two years and an ocean between us and I don't know where it all went wrong. Has it really been that long? It feels like a lifetime ago and at the same time like it was just yesterday that it was just you and me.

I know I coulda kissed you harder, and yeah, you coulda followed through. We both could have been a little more understanding and should have talked a little bit softer, but we meant every "I love you".

I don't know about you, but I'm not entirely sure where we stand now. It feels kind of like we left everything up in the air, but at the same time, I know that it's over. I don't know what this is or what it isn't, but it feels like we've got unfinished business.

We both messed up and I'm not afraid to admit that. And I know because of that we may never be what we once were. There was more that we should have done.

A couple more simple I'm sorry's. A little less trying to be right. And I wonder how many good mornings we wasted because we didn't say goodnight. One touch before we fell asleep, just before our love was out of reach. I constantly think of how it could have been enough, could have saved us from this loneliness.

After all this time I thought I could move on and just leave things alone. I thought maybe my world would make sense again after time away, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I thought I'd see it clearly from a distance, but it still feels like we've got unfinished business.

'Cause we left blood on the tracks. Sweat on the saddle. Fire in the hills. A bullet in the barrel. Words never said in a story that didn't end. Looks like you're on the mend and I'm on the bottle. We folded our hands with money on the table. I tried moving on, but I keep coming back again to what could've been.

I don't know where we stand if were still living a story that didn't end, but I want you to know that my heart still belongs to you. Whether you want to write an ending or have our story continue I respect your decision.

Yours forever, Violet"

I stared at the page filled out in blue ink. I felt lighter after writing all of that, like after everything I went through the feeling of being compressed into this role was finally letting go of me. I could finally feel the constricting pressures of self-doubt release it's hold.

I stood up and folded the letter in half, pocketing it. Then I walked over to the counter and grabbed my car keys. I stared at the silver-colored key that had a dark blue cover on it and had a key ring all of its own to separate it from the rest. I still kept the key to her house after all this time, but if everything ended for real this time I'd never have to use it again.

I hopped in the car and took the thirty-minute drive to her house. It was surprisingly quiet out for two in the afternoon. Barely any cars out, making the open road an easy and relaxing journey. It's like the universe wanted to make this as simple a job as possible and the quickest way to anything was a straight line.

Normally I'd have the radio on to distract me from anything and everything that was going on around me, but for some reason, I didn't mind the silence this time. It was like any noise would disrupt the serenity that had settled around me. But just living in the moment was good enough for me, and I found the words from my letter replaying over and over in my mind. It was like a song that was slowly getting me over everything of the past couple of years. Something that just helped me wash away every other emotion and thought so I was just left with being okay with the way the world was.

Because we left blood on the tracks. Sweat on the saddle. Fire in the hills. A bullet in the barrel. Words never said in a story that didn't end. Looks like you're on the mend and I'm on the bottle. We folded our hands with money on the table. I tried moving on, but I keep coming back again to what could've been.

I found it replaying over and over until I finally felt the slight bump of the car's tires pulling into her driveway. Turning the engine off I stepped out of the car and walked up to the front porch. I knew Clem wouldn't be home right now. She'd still be at work for another hour or two. So I singled out her house key and shoved it into the door and was rewarded with the click of the lock letting me gain access to her house.

I stepped inside and was greeted with the old yet familiar scent of the house. I feel like I would have forgotten the sensation of being inside Clem's house after going so long without it, but I'd never forgotten that feeling. I still hold all of the memories we made here in my heart and each look around the room brought back another vivid image of what once was and still brought back the question of what could have been.

I followed the dark boards of the hardwood floor into the kitchen. I ran my fingers across the wall of the doorway as I walked in. As if walking across the floor wasn't enough to prove that I was really here and I had to reach out and touch it just to make sure it was all real and that this wasn't a dream.

I remembered her routine like the back of my hand. How she always walked into the kitchen when she first got home and would set her bag down on the counter so she wouldn't forget it the next day when she went to work. So I pulled out my letter and I set it on the kitchen table where I knew she would see it.

I felt hesitant to leave like my mind wanted to do more, but I knew better than to push it. Whatever happened, happened. So I left the letter to sit alone on the empty table, awaiting the moment when it's reader would return home. Then I relocked the house and got back in my car to drive home.

And no matter Clementine's decision, I would still be happy. I may never love another again, but if she was content with the way we ended things then so was I.

Because after this I would no longer have to wonder what could have been.