I feel pathetic just writing this.
But I keep struggling to move away from a past that I just can’t dismiss.
Why am I writing this? There’s no point to it, is there?
Not when the person it’s written to wouldn’t even care.
There’s nothing new I can say about this, nothing I haven’t already said.
But, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get you out of my head.
I still don’t know how to live in the present when all I want to do is turn back time.
You were my picket fence and the rhythm to my rhyme.
There is nothing I regret more in my life than losing you.
I thought I was doing the right thing. If only I then knew
That I was so very wrong. My life hasn’t gotten any better since then.
Sometimes, I feel like it’s gotten worse. So here I am again,
Writing because I don’t know what else to do. No matter how hard I try,
I still can’t move on and I don’t want to. I know why.
I miss you, first and foremost. I miss the life that we that we had, the one that you gave me.
I miss the certainty of the plans we made, until they fell apart from events I couldn’t foresee.
You made me feel alive and incredibly loved. You grounded me and you also let me fly.
Those times were so much better, and simpler. You were my girl and I was your guy.
No matter what, I could always count on that. I was a fool to throw it away.
Life with you was so much better than this, the difference is like night and day.
You made me the happiest I’ve ever been but I moronically, greedily sought more.
I love you and I never stopped. You’re still the woman that I adore.
I wish these words mattered. I know these feelings don’t flow both ways,
And it’s foolish to hope otherwise. No matter how much I rephrase,
I’ve said this all before to no avail. But maybe I’m a hopeless romantic.
I’ve tried to move on and failed, but something just won’t click.
I’m sorry every poem’s about you. I just need to express this,
For myself. If you’re reading this, once again, I foolishly hope you don’t dismiss
My words. I love you and I would still give anything for another chance.
