I've written all the letters. 

I've screamed a thousand times.

Neither is really better,

Neither are really fine.

I've begged to have you back.

I want to see you again.

but I am left with is this simple fact,

I know I cannot win.

I wrote all of the letters.

I sealed them up to go.

The sooner the better,

but when they reach you, no one really knows.

I can't do it. I can't continue. I was never really good. I just want to tell you how I feel be straight up genuine and real. I can't bring myself to put them in the mail box, though. I do not want to ruin this. Then again I really want to know: would things be different? would the miles change a thing? would you say the same to me? or would you just let me go?