Page 33 of a Book I Never Finished

You're never very far. No matter where I turn you're around the corner in some song I wrote or blurb I hid away in a notebook.
I used to run from these reminders, but these days I need them. I'm lost in a sea of what "if"s and "maybe"s.

What if I had called about help.
Maybe I'd still have the connection.
What if I hadn't given up.
Maybe I'd be there now.
What if I hadn't parked the car to cry.
Maybe I'd have gotten that phone call.

I don't know if questioning the past is worth very much. Just hope for a second chance at not missing out, that's all I can do now.

I miss you. Writing makes me feel closer to you now. It seems I've almost stopped completely.

I should really finish this book. Maybe I'll just write 32 pages of a new one instead.