Can I keep blaming this on you?
Probably not anymore, huh.
A year, 365 long fucking days, I’ve been squeezing heartbreak for all it’s worth. And you’re far from aching. Healed over time while it’s just reopened wounds for me. Or maybe you’re aching just as hard, if not harder.

That’s a scary thought.

Just downright unhealthy.

You should move on, then maybe I can.
Not to a new city, you already tried that. I know it won’t change a thing.

Not to someone new, you tried that one too. I can’t seem to give a shit about another woman for long enough to try.

Just SOMEWHERE. ANYWHERE. Really, not sure anymore.

2,000 miles and still consumed with thoughts of you. 400 something days, if we’re counting, and the mere imagination of your face is still intoxicating as ever.

Just don’t get it. Tried to have plenty of people stand where you did, only to be reminded of you.

Still dreaming of you.

Still writing to you.

Still up at night alone, fighting myself into the corner about you.

Still seeing images of you.

Eyes cool blue, piercing my heart, it’s you.

You hating me so much,

Ignoring every chance to talk or touch,

Not responding when I say I still love you

Proves you just may love me too.