I don’t know how to remember you. I don’t know whether or not to let the sweet memories we made, fading in the crystal clear water and falling asleep next to you, dominate my understanding of you, or if I should focus on you leaving me with such harsh words?
I don’t know if you ever really loved me. I don’t know if you have found someone else. I don’t know if you have ever woken up next to someone and called them the wrong name, your name. Because I have. I don’t know if you have ever seem something funny and instinctively wanted to tell you about it and then remembering you aren’t interested in hearing from me.
I don’t know if you had nights where you dream us back together and wake up wishing you could sleep forever. I don’t know if you have thought of me since we last talked.
Sometimes it’s still so, so hard to believe that we became these people that are worlds away from each other now. Hard to believe that you were everything, you know? You had me at night and in the morning and every hour in between. It’s hard to love someone after they’ve shown you parts of themselves they don’t really fit with the rest of the picture that you’ve made for yourself, you know?
Like god, you really hurt me so bad but you’ve also made me so happy and how can you be the both of those people at once? Where does it all fit? You made me question so much. The point is, really you can blame me for distance and the timing all you want, but you’re still the one who turned me into a weak stranger.
I know soon you’ll forget the sound of my voice and what colour my eyes were. You’ll forget how much I loved your black sweater. Soon you’ll see me as a stranger; walking down by without recognising me you won’t even know me while I’ll be getting drunk trying to forget your name.