Photo via: zweifelsohne wankelmütig
Does it slip through our clenched fists, so desperately ready to clash against a wooden door out of frustration, just to spare one another’s flesh? Does it spill from our souls and travel down the tracks on our cheeks, finally soaking into our pillowcases at 3am when we’ve been thinking too much? Does it shoot from our mouths with every horrible word we say to one another? Or maybe it gets caught in the silence when we’re laying beside one another, both wide awake but staring at the walls as if every answer we need will appear on them.
Does it drown inside of a whiskey bottle so that we can pretend that love never even existed at all? Does it get tangled on the bedroom floor of a stranger who we chose because they had your eyes or they wore the same cologne and we prayed that maybe we’d find a substitute for love underneath someone else’s covers? Does it dissipate in the cold winter air; from a cigarette that you don’t even enjoy the taste of, but you’d just hoped it would replace the addiction?
Does it slip out the back door with you when you leave in a rush, after we’ve told one another we never want to see each other again? Does it fade into the hum of a dial tone, after we’ve ended our conversation with no goodbye? Does it crash into a million pieces with every broken promise we’ve never fulfilled? Maybe it tiptoes from our breath with a long sigh, when we’re alone and we realize this isn’t how love is supposed to be. Does it get trapped in the memories, when our smiles were genuine, behind the glass of pictures that collect dust in boxes we’ve hidden away?
I will never understand where love goes. I will never understand how little by little, the person who once made you feel so alive could drain you completely. I’ll never understand how it feels like one day you go to bed with the man you thought was your person in life, and wake up in an instant with a complete stranger.
With you, I’ve been playing it all back, retracing my steps, thinking of what I could have possibly missed, trying to desperately pinpoint the moment our love disappeared; as if I’m trying to retrace my steps to find my misplaced car keys. And that is when I usually realize, that as much as I’d hoped my love for you was lost for good, there I find it tucked away in a corner of my heart, like a little note you find hidden in your jeans pocket, all wrinkled and faded from going through the washer. And I think of you, and I miss you, the good and the bad, and I still love you.
And that’s when I realize, love doesn’t go anywhere. It was either there or it wasn’t. I don’t think your love was ever really there for me. It was always easy for you to leave this behind. Me on the other hand, well I was never really good at letting go, and if I go searching, I still find my love for you.
Does it drown inside of a whiskey bottle so that we can pretend that love never even existed at all? Does it get tangled on the bedroom floor of a stranger who we chose because they had your eyes or they wore the same cologne and we prayed that maybe we’d find a substitute for love underneath someone else’s covers? Does it dissipate in the cold winter air; from a cigarette that you don’t even enjoy the taste of, but you’d just hoped it would replace the addiction?
Does it slip out the back door with you when you leave in a rush, after we’ve told one another we never want to see each other again? Does it fade into the hum of a dial tone, after we’ve ended our conversation with no goodbye? Does it crash into a million pieces with every broken promise we’ve never fulfilled? Maybe it tiptoes from our breath with a long sigh, when we’re alone and we realize this isn’t how love is supposed to be. Does it get trapped in the memories, when our smiles were genuine, behind the glass of pictures that collect dust in boxes we’ve hidden away?
I will never understand where love goes. I will never understand how little by little, the person who once made you feel so alive could drain you completely. I’ll never understand how it feels like one day you go to bed with the man you thought was your person in life, and wake up in an instant with a complete stranger.
With you, I’ve been playing it all back, retracing my steps, thinking of what I could have possibly missed, trying to desperately pinpoint the moment our love disappeared; as if I’m trying to retrace my steps to find my misplaced car keys. And that is when I usually realize, that as much as I’d hoped my love for you was lost for good, there I find it tucked away in a corner of my heart, like a little note you find hidden in your jeans pocket, all wrinkled and faded from going through the washer. And I think of you, and I miss you, the good and the bad, and I still love you.
And that’s when I realize, love doesn’t go anywhere. It was either there or it wasn’t. I don’t think your love was ever really there for me. It was always easy for you to leave this behind. Me on the other hand, well I was never really good at letting go, and if I go searching, I still find my love for you.
