We never had a story, Just moments that almost shaped one. There was doubt in your steps, And uncertainty in mine. We kept meeting in between, Where words were said, But actions were never done, And I couldn't make myself believe you were the one. It hurt me more than you'll ever know, To leave what I once thought I wanted for sure. To tell you "I love you" while packing my bags to leave, To lie, even though I knew I would quit. And maybe you never saw it, The way I was already gone. You kept holding onto something, That began and was already done. We never had a story, Just the certainty that we would make one. But somewhere between your doubt and mine, We started something that was already done. So I chose my peace and left, I don't regret it, I just don't want to forget, Some things that came to an end, Were never meant to begin in the first hand.