(no subject)
Sometimes, I sit alone and wonder about the him. Where he is and if he's doing alright. I look up at the sun because it's the only thing that connects us. Because if he's looking at it too, that somehow brings us closer. I wonder if he's thinking of me and if my neckelace is still hanging from his rearview mirror. I wonder if he remembers. The stereo's playing our song. Every song reminds me of him. The way his hair swept above his eyebrow accross his forehead, the way his hand felt in mine, the way his eyes smiled when he was happy, the way he listened and cared, his embrace. The way he was always tapping his feet on the ground or his fingers on his leg as if he was some kind of metranome keeping time to whatever song was playing in his head. The way I felt in his arms. Oh, remembering is like an uncurable disease that just spreads and eats away until there's nothing left but bitterness. Because once you let old memories in, once you open your door to nostalgia, it never really goes away.
Just once, I want to be able to put one foot in front of the other and move forward.
I've been standing still for what seems like so long.
I'm just waiting for something new to come along. But I'm so frozen. Everything's standing still. Monotonous. And frankly, I'm sick of it. I'm ready for a change.
Come on, let's go. Take me somewhere new.
Just once, I want to be able to put one foot in front of the other and move forward.
I've been standing still for what seems like so long.
I'm just waiting for something new to come along. But I'm so frozen. Everything's standing still. Monotonous. And frankly, I'm sick of it. I'm ready for a change.
Come on, let's go. Take me somewhere new.