If you ever want to talk again, meet me on a Thursday in May at the place where we had our first date — by the picnic tables.
You’ll remember it. Sitting in my green Chevy Silverado, eating fast food — Burger King for me, and you deciding between McDonald’s or Wendy’s.
Music playing, talking for hours. Funny how sometimes you realize later… this must be the place.
No expectations. No pressure. Just a chance to finally say the things that never got said.
If you show up, we talk.
If not, I’ll understand.
But I’ll probably still be there anyway.