Beck's stuff, it haunts me. I threw it all in a box the day after we broke up. Correction, the day after he dumped me. Now everything that could potentially remind me of him is packed away in the corner of my room. Pictures of us from that trip to Yerba are among the remnants of our relationship. Against my better judgment, I pick them up and begin to look through them. I would never admit it out loud but I actually enjoyed that trip, apart from the terrible hotel and being thrown in jail for 'assaulting' the chancellor. It may not have been Cancun but I was with him. That's all that mattered.
We used to sing songs together, Beck and I. Now I can't listen to any of those songs without thinking of him. I guess they could be considered good memories since the two of us were happy at the time, but instead they torment me.
A few pictures, two tickets, from a trip we took last year.
A handful of memories, some still seem clear.
A few regrets, a couple melodies that remind me of you.
I could say that I won't miss this, that wouldn't be the truth.
There's no one here to blame, and this is the only way,
There's nothing left for us to say.
I try to pretend it doesn't bother me, us being broken up and all, but it does. I can't blame him though. It's not his fault, it's not anyone's fault. This is the way things have to be. I have to let him go. We both knew this was coming. Our relationship wasn't going anywhere. If anything, we were growing further apart. I'm just going to have to accept the fact that I have to move on. Besides, I don't want to be the girl that begs her ex-boyfriend to take her back. That type of thing isn't really in my character. I'm Jade West, confident and independent, not weak and needy.
It's time to let you go; it's what we have to do.
It's time to give this up; I think that we both knew.
There's nothing left to say. There's nothing left to prove.
And now it's time to turn and walk away from,
What's left of me and you,
What's left of me and you.
Sitting on my bed with the pictures still in my hand, I look over at the box again. I'm about to look away when something catches my eye. Beck's hoodie. The one he let me borrow when we went to the park and it started raining. Darn it, Jade, stop thinking about him. But I can't. Checking the clock on my bedside table, I see it's only four o'clock in the afternoon. Ugh, I wish there was something to do around here. I need something to take my mind off Beck.
I wish I could blame him for all this, I really do. Then he would seem like the bad guy and I might have an easier time getting over him. But he did nothing wrong, nothing at all. He's perfect. He doesn't need me. I just have to keep telling myself I don't need him.
Box of mess, that old t-shirt, still brings me back to you.
A few more hours in the day, not sure what I should do.
There's no one here to blame, and this is the only way.
There's nothing left for us to say.
It's time to let you go; it's what we have to do.
It's time to give this up; I think that we both knew.
There's nothing left to say. There's nothing left to prove.
And now it's time to turn and walk away from,
What's left of me and you.
Beck, he was quite possibly the best that ever happened to me. I hate to say it but I think I might still be in love with him. That makes it so much harder to see that breaking up was the right thing to do. But I have to move on; I have to continue on with my life. I guess the only way to do that is to say goodbye to him. Goodbye, Beck, goodbye.
You were the best thing I'll ever give up.
And it's hard to see the truth,
When you think you're still in love.
The only way to get on with my life,
Is to say goodbye, so goodbye.
It's time to let you go; it's what we have to do.
It's time to give this up; I think that we both knew.
There's nothing left to say. There's nothing left to prove.
And now it's time to turn and walk away from,
What's left of me and you,
What's left of me and you.
My cell phone vibrates as it receives an incoming text from Cat. 'Wanna hang?' I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, something to take my mind off of all this. Before I leave, I carefully place everything back in the box exactly as it had been earlier. Walking toward the door I turn around and look at the box, Beck's box, one last time. All of the memories of our relationship seem to be working together to create an enormous wound in my heart. But wounds heal, and in time, so will I.
A few pictures, two tickets,
From a trip we took last year.
A handful of memories,
Some still seem clear.
My name is Jade West and I don't need Beck Oliver… right?
