Out of sight is not out of mind I’ve come to realize that I’m wasting my time by picking at the facts, cause and effect, scrutinizing the details of why you left. Last night I dreamt I was with you and we walked down past our old high school. It was like “ever since” had never been, we talked of things that don’t exist.
Now I’ve stopped punching walls when I think of you. I’ve stopped blaming myself for the shit that you pulled. I swear I don’t care, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care if you forget everything and we never speak again. I’m done dwelling on the “have nots” and “could have beens.” Who am I to pass judgement, who am I to condemn? I’m just a fucking kid and I don’t know anything (About love, about loss, about love, about…)
It’s not your memory that I’m clinging to, but rather some idealized version of you. You’re just some girl with your own problems now, you’re just some girl that I once cared about.