Loose Ends

Maybe it is the loose ends that keeps me coming back to you. Maybe it is the gap that I thought there could be stories that could fit in, another chapter, another paragraph or just another sentence. Maybe, I would still like you to hold me two seconds longer, or just another second. Maybe I want you to be mad at me, hate me, or love me, which you never did. Maybe, maybe it is all the what ifs. But also maybe, it is just you. Maybe, it's the curiosity if I never leave the city - if I stay. If I stay, would you still hold my hand?