How You Get Her Back

 How You Get Her Back 

First, you man up.

You realize the ways that you have failed her, the things you’ve done that have disappointed her and yourself, the flaws that have broken even the most beautiful connection between the two of you—and you air them out like dirty laundry.

You bring them to the surface, you expose them.
You look at them, at yourself with a critical eye.
You realize that damn, you messed up.
Then you acknowledge.

You reach out to her if she’s long gone, you hold her close if she’s still around. You tell her all those uninhibited, terrifying thoughts on your mind. The ones that are emotion-filled and unedited, that make you seem like less of a man, that make you really feel something.

And you pour them out to her.

You tell her all the things you truly miss—how her hand feels in yours, the silly way her nose crinkles when she laughs, how her body is always so soft and warm in your arms. You remind her of all the little things, like when she rests her head on your shoulder when she’s sitting shotgun, or how she’ll always puts ‘I love you’ sticky-notes on the counter when she leaves the house before you do.

You tell her that you miss those little things.
That your heart is aching.
That you’ve messed up.
Then you apologize.

Fully, in the way that really digs deep. You apologize for the little things, the big things, and the everythings in-between. You reach into the most guarded part of your heart and let those walls down.

You stop being afraid of what you look like, of what kind of man you’ve become, even of what she’ll say.

You just apologize because you need her to know that you’re sorry.
That you love her.
That you don’t want to lose her.

And this is the only thing you can do to keep yourself afloat.
You pursue.

You make amends to fix what’s broken, you change what you know you’ve done wrong, and you show her that you’re a new man.

You devote time to her, energy to her.
You make her the priority she always should have been.

You do everything in your power to show her that you want her, that you need her.
And then you wait.

But not passively.

You give her time, give her space, but keep yourself just within reach.
You let her think, be patient as she decides whether or not to slowly let her guard down.

And in the meantime, you keep doing what you can to show her you care. Like bringing her favorite coffee to work, like waking up early just to say good morning, like making dinner or cleaning without asking, or so many of those little, stupid things you overlooked for months.

And you hope, wish, pray that she’ll see you.
That she’ll see you’ve changed, that you mean what you say.
That she’ll know you love her, despite past mistakes.

And that she’ll love you enough to try again.