I still find myself sad
I didn't want to take down your pictures
I miss the drawings you made for me of the times we had.
I miss you still, but not every minute;
I'm trying to move on, but every time I start to appreciate this life
I can't help but wonder how much better it would be with you in it.
I loved you, and I still do;
I wish the best for you and I hope you can have adventures
that can replace the bad memories with me and give you a life like new.
Untainted by my existence,
innocence regained and dreams sweet; not bitter regrets,
better yet a whole new world where I never wrote you songs and you never listened.
I still find myself missing you,
but what's worse is what I put you through.
I couldn't change fast enough for a soul as wonderful,
and adventurous, and pure, and as fast as you.
I still have dreams we're running across town,
racing to the beach, drinks in hand, and smiles on our lips.
I still seem to think subconsciously the reality in which we live
is one where you still love me.
I still find myself missing the feeling of your lips,
and the lilac smell of your hair.
If only I could have been as spectacular as you.
If only you were still able to see the wonder in me, too.