Hey.
You know. I’ve started to think—maybe we’re always gonna have that person.
That person that we have given a piece of our hearts, and never returns it back. The one that we thought would always be there at the first place. The one to whom you will sing a piece of a song at night, and they will sing a long the rest of it right. The one who reads the same book, watches the same movies, listens to the same music, drinks the same coffee, speaks the same languages, and sticks the pictures of the same people on the wall of their room. The one compatible, in the right amount of compatibility that, in one way or another, still keeping you excited about not knowing what they’re going to say or do. The one who, under several circumstances, reads your mind and is always right about it. The one who will understand your anger, and be there to listen to it. The one with whom you could spend hours, sitting, in long, comfortable silence.
The one, whom, at the same time, you can never have.
Because your borrowed time with them is over. Because your paths in life just do not cross anymore. Because they make a different choice, turn their back…, and then walk away.
The way he did to me before. And she did to you, and I find it hurting me even more.
And finally you will have to live on, and find a substitute. Which will never shape the lost, fit the whole hole, or fill the emptiness.
***
I’m so scared that I’ll find that one in you.
Because I think stories in my heart have started a new part. There is a line that stretches exactly the same way as the ones that you draw everyday. There are corners that begin to place themselves with all the things from the books you read. There are bells that chime as I wake up in the morning, and dance to all the songs that you sing. There is a hole inside of it everytime you leave.
It shapes exactly just the way you do.
At the same time, you seem too good to come true.
And I’m so scared—that I’m finally gonna have to lose you.
***
You know. I’ve started to think—maybe we’re always gonna have that person.
That person that we have given a piece of our hearts, and never returns it back. The one that we thought would always be there at the first place. The one to whom you will sing a piece of a song at night, and they will sing a long the rest of it right. The one who reads the same book, watches the same movies, listens to the same music, drinks the same coffee, speaks the same languages, and sticks the pictures of the same people on the wall of their room. The one compatible, in the right amount of compatibility that, in one way or another, still keeping you excited about not knowing what they’re going to say or do. The one who, under several circumstances, reads your mind and is always right about it. The one who will understand your anger, and be there to listen to it. The one with whom you could spend hours, sitting, in long, comfortable silence.
The one, whom, at the same time, you can never have.
Because your borrowed time with them is over. Because your paths in life just do not cross anymore. Because they make a different choice, turn their back…, and then walk away.
The way he did to me before. And she did to you, and I find it hurting me even more.
And finally you will have to live on, and find a substitute. Which will never shape the lost, fit the whole hole, or fill the emptiness.
***
I’m so scared that I’ll find that one in you.
Because I think stories in my heart have started a new part. There is a line that stretches exactly the same way as the ones that you draw everyday. There are corners that begin to place themselves with all the things from the books you read. There are bells that chime as I wake up in the morning, and dance to all the songs that you sing. There is a hole inside of it everytime you leave.
It shapes exactly just the way you do.
At the same time, you seem too good to come true.
And I’m so scared—that I’m finally gonna have to lose you.
***
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