“How are you?” It’s been a while since I last asked you that question.

It seems like you’ve been doing well, anyway.

If you ask me the same thing, I’d say I’m okay, but I know that’s the last thing you want to hear from me.

You want me better. You want me great.

Unfortunately, I’m still just ‘okay.’ Okay, maybe a little less than okay.

I’ve been deep in my “what ifs” these past months.

One by one, they’re turning into “will-never-bes.”

Soon enough, I have nothing left to hold on to. I will be left with the reality brought about by the choice I made.

I chose “safe.”

I chose “safe” over you.

But you . . . I was never one of your choices.

That’s what I know, at least.

But if that was never the case, I’d rather not know about all the chances I’ve missed.