Tuesday, July 19, 2011

To The One That Got Away.

I've been thinking about the times we used to spend together, conversations for hours in your beat up old black Honda. Talking about anything and everything, and not noticing the silence in between it all. I still can't forget all the ridiculous times we had together, both so silly and incredibly romantic. Nights with you, sitting at the edge of the world gazing up at the moon. Real talk.  I remember it all. The song that was playing on the CD player in the car when you first kissed me, with the sun beaming down on my legs, your hand softly resting on my jaw, and me thinking that the universe and everyone in it had conspired into putting this one moment together. In putting the two of us together.

And it's funny how one destiny can greedily change its mind, how you can have the world one moment, and nothing the next, how I distinctly remember that feeling in the grave of my stomach, the last time I saw you, knowing it was the last time. I still really can't get it through my head that you grow distant from people, and that good things come to and end sooner or later. But along the way, I've learned so many things, like looking up at the stars is always better with someone next to you, like my knees really do get weak when you're around, like I'll  always think of  you when I hear that song, and that no matter how many times I play it back it won't take me back to that point in time, it won't take me back to you. I found out that clichés are clichés for a reason, and that it truly is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.