There are better sunsets in her town than any place I’ve ever seen. I used think it was a city full of beautiful things. Really it’s a place where beauty meets its end and everyone stands to watch it disintegrate.
All this time I thought I knew how you worked, thought I knew who you were. Now all I know is I wish I could make you scream “I’m sorry” as loud as I use to make you scream other things.
I could sum up the entire month of September in the phrase “panick attack” but its nothing you’d want to hear about
Two months into calling it quits I was still showing up in parking lots I knew you’d be in, just to catch a glimpse of a girl who said I’d never see her again.
So I win.
All my friends told me to drop it. “You’re better than that,” they said. I don’t know why I had such a problem believing them. But I know they played our song at the 3rd street promenade last weekend, while you were busy forging friendships with people you thought could replace me.
I’ll admit I hadn’t had an honest conversation with my family until the day they dropped me off in a hospital bed, held my hand while the doctors said “breathe easy, your lungs won’t stop working without your consent.”
My mom told me, “you’ll never forget her, but don’t ever let her hurt you again” and I remember hours of screaming “I can’t” but not even I really know what I meant.