No matter where I go, a part of you will be...
Some day you will be walking - alone - down the empty streets watching the people pass. Cars will flutter by and buildings will stand still. You will stop to look through the store window. The curly haired saleswoman peering through the clear glass will pierce your memory like daggers and you will remember how you shattered my heart into peices. You will feel guilty for hurting someone like that and you will be angry at yourself for not falling too deep. You will hate yourself for not allowing yourself to feel. You will regret not taking a chance on us because you were too scared to get hurt. You will wonder where I am and if my heart belongs to someone else.
.
Some day I will be driving down an abandoned highway watching the yellow dotted lines go by. The road signs will be listening to me sing at top of my lungs to the songs on the radio. A two-door white Oldsmobile with a T-roof will pass me by and my tounge will stop singing. I'll stop to think about the curly, red headed boy who ripped my heart out with both bare hands and stomped on it because he was too scared to hurt. I will feel guilty for letting someone effect me the way you did. I will be angry at myself for falling too deep and too hard, and for not letting go sooner. I will wonder where you are and if you had hurt someone else. I will be wondering what went wrong between us and what was wrong with me.
.
Months go by and we will both be walking down the same street - caught up in the atmospere of our new lives. You will stop to say hello and I'll stutter in my words. You tell me about your new job and the good pay. I tell you about my husband and wonderful kids. I will miss you, but I will have moved on from this dicusting charade.
.
Some day I will be driving down an abandoned highway watching the yellow dotted lines go by. The road signs will be listening to me sing at top of my lungs to the songs on the radio. A two-door white Oldsmobile with a T-roof will pass me by and my tounge will stop singing. I'll stop to think about the curly, red headed boy who ripped my heart out with both bare hands and stomped on it because he was too scared to hurt. I will feel guilty for letting someone effect me the way you did. I will be angry at myself for falling too deep and too hard, and for not letting go sooner. I will wonder where you are and if you had hurt someone else. I will be wondering what went wrong between us and what was wrong with me.
.
Months go by and we will both be walking down the same street - caught up in the atmospere of our new lives. You will stop to say hello and I'll stutter in my words. You tell me about your new job and the good pay. I tell you about my husband and wonderful kids. I will miss you, but I will have moved on from this dicusting charade.