On this living room, every sunday, every day today, I'd be seeing her off.
Her dad would come over on his cool looking bike and take her away,
it was always a bitter sight, but not sad.
I knew the next weekend I'd be the one there, not with my dad, but by bus,
and so it went,
weekend
after
weekend.
We'd play games, she'd teach me to knit, we'd hang out, we'd go on dates,
we'd talk, we'd laugh, we'd smile, we'd listen to music, we'd watch movies,
we were a couple.
A perfect couple, everything was going so well I couldn't see the flaws.
And I truly believe still there were no flaws.
Whatever it was that got her to leave,
well, I can't blame myself.
It's hard to explain without exposing myself,
but you know when you're not to blame,
you know when you didn't do it.
You know you have a convincing argument,
but it doesn't matter anymore, it'll never matter
it didn't matter the moment she made the call
it didn't matter beforehand, or after.
And it sure as hell won't matter now.
On this living room, we went through over a year together
on her living room, we went through all that time.
Now it all feels for naught,
it all feels so pointless.
What once was happiness now is sad,
what once was warmth, now is cold,
what once was love, now are tears,
and what once was comfort, now is fear.
Fear of never loving again,
or even of doing so anyway.
Fear of it happening again.
Fear.
I hope she lives a good life,
I don't know how mine will be.
I won't keep myself down because of her,
but I won't try to put myself up either.
I'm just living now.
I'm a soulless blob who's had his heart snatched away that fateful morning.
I just hope one day I'll be good again.