Why are you so hard to let go of?
Many weeks have gone by, it’s been nearly two months.
The season’s almost changed and so have we.
We’ve both found someone new,
but my mind still lingers in the thought of you.
Sometimes I wonder if you think of me, too.
I hate to admit it, but
I truly do miss you..
I haven’t been in this town since the last time you were around.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
The storm had just hit and almost all had been broken down,
and I guess I should have taken that as a sign
that we, too, would slowly come to an end.
And what hurts most is
the fact that I thought we would actually last.
But we didn’t.
“Are you happy?,” she asked with a stern look on her face. And it wasn’t until that moment that I really knew the answer.
You’re not even all that. You’re short and not so good-looking. Your hair is fucking ugly and you’re not even smart; matter of fact, you’re actually pretty stupid. You have no goals or plans in life and no other female probably wants you. And if they do, they’re just thirsty for you.
So why the fuck am I stressing over you? I mean, shit, I’m the best you’ll ever have.
But hey. It’s your loss, asshole.