If I had thought. . .

If I had thought that was going to be my last night with you, I would have done so many things. I would have hugged you for so long. A hug that felt awkward in its length if it didn't mean goodbye. I would have said so many things. Told you how much I love you. How wonderful you really are. Because you can't see it. And I would have let you know, finally, what it meant to me to lose you. Because if I never get to tell you I love you again, you should see the hole you'll leave behind. You should see just how big you are to me. Because you can't possibly know.

If I had thought that it would never be the same between us again, I might have seen the signs earlier. Might have seen all the things you weren't telling me. Might have had enough time to hide some small space in my heart that would be left undamaged by your departure.

If I had thought that you knew all night long that this was going to be the last one we spent together, I might have stayed home alone instead. I might have kept a memory more pure for our last day together. Or I might have kept you with me all night long.

If I had thought you were lying to me while I told you all my truths, I might have kept some things to myself. I might have hidden part of myself away from you the way you were doing the whole time.

But I never thought any of those things. Not even once.