He is always with me.
The embodiment of what could have been - what still could be, if I could only let it. If I could somehow leave behind all the barriers, all the walls, all the parameters. I know that I made them. I wish it wasn't too late. Maybe it's not. There's some small part of me that wants to hope, that wants to believe there's still a future for us.
And then there's her.
She's beautiful. How can I compete with that? I shouldn't be jealous, shouldn't envy her. She's mine too, after all. I moulded her. Thou hast made thine own bed, now thou must lie on it. And so I will, alone. Isn't that always the way? Isn't that how it has to be?
I'm asking too many questions. It only makes it hurt more when I walk down the corridor, see them laughing. Hand in hand. It hurts.
I try to forget them. But she is beautiful in her happiness and his face is animated, sparkling. How can I deny them that?
Try to forget, but his face is always with me.
The embodiment of what could have been - what still could be, if I could only let it. If I could somehow leave behind all the barriers, all the walls, all the parameters. I know that I made them. I wish it wasn't too late. Maybe it's not. There's some small part of me that wants to hope, that wants to believe there's still a future for us.
And then there's her.
She's beautiful. How can I compete with that? I shouldn't be jealous, shouldn't envy her. She's mine too, after all. I moulded her. Thou hast made thine own bed, now thou must lie on it. And so I will, alone. Isn't that always the way? Isn't that how it has to be?
I'm asking too many questions. It only makes it hurt more when I walk down the corridor, see them laughing. Hand in hand. It hurts.
I try to forget them. But she is beautiful in her happiness and his face is animated, sparkling. How can I deny them that?
Try to forget, but his face is always with me.