I Wrote Down the Story of Us

I wrote down the story of us.
I changed your name and the color of my truck but the rest is truth.
Just truth.
I wrote down the story of us, in vague sentences and in specific details and it only takes up ten pages.
Two years of my life summed up in ten pages.
It feels like a joke.
I wrote down the story of us and I couldn't help changing the ending.
So that part isn't truth.
It's all wishes and wants and should-have-beens.
The end is my favorite part because it saves us.
It turns our shipwreck into a painting.
It takes the broken pieces of us and glues us back together in some new, undiscovered masterpiece.
I wrote down the story of us and I miss you so badly I can't breathe.
I miss you and I'm angry and I'm hurt.
It reminded me of so many things.
I wrote down the story of us and I don't know if it should make me laugh or cry.
I do both.
I smile at the beginning, when we were close and things made sense.
And I write through tears in the middle, where it gets messy and we turn into a disaster on the page.
I wrote down the story of us and I wish it was different.
I wish we were different.
Or maybe I wish we had never changed.
I wrote down the story of us.
I changed your name and the color of my truck but the truth is still the same.
The truth is that it hurts.
And the truth is I still keep wishing that the ending on my paper will play out in my real life.