I don’t know why I always get stuck here. I don’t know why I don’t get smarter. I feel like, after falling in love with you twice and have it fade both times, I should know that you’re the last ex I should ever return to.
But you’re not my ex.
You’re just not. There was no “We’re over.”
Maybe because we aren’t. We just are not over. Life doesn’t work without you, and it’s a hell of a rollercoaster with you. If only I was there, or you where here. If only I could have you holding me for a minute, have one 4AM conversation, steal a kiss or two - maybe it would be much easier. I like to think it would.
So, as far as I’ve gotten with all this thinking - I still haven’t moved on.
I thought I was, because I had somewhat learned how to enjoy myself again. When I was with friends, in class, on skype - when I was busy - I wasn’t thinking about you. You didn’t make the butterflies fly or make me nervous. But after every event, when I was in bed and it was dark, you were still that one person. When every spotlight had turned itself off, it was still you.
Maybe it’ll always be you. Maybe it will never, ever be anyone else.
I don’t know why I’m here again. I don’t even know if you are in love with someone else. Please don’t be. But it’s quite possible that you are, ‘cause hey - you’re in a relationship.
Maybe it worked out for you. You know, you told me how you don’t deal with things by talking about them - you bury it and move forward.
Is that moving on? I thought it was. When you just keep yourself busy, bury it, and keep yourself going. I made it so much less complex.
I wonder if you realized that, too.
You were the first mile where my heart broke a sweat.
I don’t know what love is. But whenever it’s mentioned, whenever it’s heard - I think of you.
I just do.
Maybe I’m just utterly fascinated with you.