Here’s the thing. She is beautiful in the way of tragic endings and soft voices when you are just waking up from a deep sleep. She has a laugh that resounds in your heart long after she is finished. She is a story written in brown eyes and passion and long hair which reminds you of the mist on a beautiful autumn morning. She has elegance and wisdom beyond her years.

And here is me, me with my dark eyes, always questioning, and unsure of what I am doing. My dark hair wild and unruly, I am not a story, but a half written poem, leaving unfinished endings as I go along. I am an open book of the messes I have made and selfish about you.

She is a mustang. And I am a wolf.

I am wild, I howl at the moon and I give my all but only when it comes to you. She on the other hand, is always generous and giving and true.

So here’s the thing, my darling, here is the truth.

I love you more than she ever could. But she is the one who deserves you.

At the end of the day, she is a wild mustang just like you, and wolves like me are better off alone, howling at the moon.