Blue

All good things come to an end,
I prefer beginnings,
endings are often sad.
Life isn't that simple,
and somehow I always mess things up.
I found myself in late night drives,
often without a destination.
Along the tangled roads of an eerie city,
I found tranquility.
We all have our reasons,
to justify our loneliness.
And sometimes all you want is to forget,
when forgetting is no longer an option,
it becomes a method of survival.
There's really no shortcut to forgetting someone,
you just have to endure missing them everyday,
until you don't anymore.
We were lovers,
but now we cannot be friends.
We loved with a love that was more than love,
it outgrown us,
eventually destroying everything we could ever have.
I miss the way it used to be,
there were things I wanted to tell you,
but I knew they would hurt you,
so I buried them,
and let them hurt me instead.
And now I am running out of ways to numb the pain,
Because I held on for too long,
hoping we'll be alright.
Is there no way out of the mind?
I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.
Sometimes I think we were just stupid lovers,
loving each other til we lose our minds.
I wanted it so much,
but apparently the world isn't a wish-granting factory.
They told me to stay away from the ones I love too much,
those are the ones who will destroy me.
You always said that I am the one who knocked down people around me,
but it has always been you,
you ruin anyone who would come close to you.
And maybe we are just like the sun and the moon,
deeply in love with each other,
but too different to exist side by side.
But what hurts is that we never really said goodbye,
we just kind of ended.
And now I am trying to forget you as I wait for you to come back.
Sometimes the pain of love is more fulling than the ache of loneliness;
if you want the rainbow,
you have to deal with the rain.
I still notice you, I want to say.
Even when no one else does,
I will.
There's something godly yet sinful about loving you,
I lost myself so many times that I don't know who I am anymore,
like a shadow,
I am and I am not.
There are a few things in life so beautiful they hurt:
swimming in the ocean while it rains,
reading alone in empty libraries,
the sea of stars that appear when you are miles away from the neon lights of the city,
streets after 2 am,
walking in the wilderness,
all the phases of the moon,
the things we do not know about the universe,
and you.
You had a soft spot for me,
like a bruise,
so sensitive,
it beckons me to touch.
You were a hopeless romantic,
searching for peace,
in a world full of insanity.
If what we had was love,
why does it hurt so much?
All I can think about is you;
the way you sat in the passenger seat,
you would adjust the seat,
change the radio station,
and sing along to songs I don't know.
I fell in love with you on one of those drives,
while the sunset is lighting up your eyes,
and all I could think about was you.
Sometimes we want what we want,
even if we know it's going to kill us.
All suffering originates from craving,
from attachment,
from desire.
And we were the dreamers of dreams,
we dreamed of a different kind of life,
of a new fresh start for both of us.
But all endings are also beginnings,
we just don't know it at the time.
Maybe you do not want to be alone but you are tired of being lied to,
used,
and thrown aside when you are no longer convenient.
Maybe you have suffered one too many heartbreaks from boyfriends or best friends or parents,
maybe you want to depend on someone but there's no one left,
no one,
except yourself.
And maybe you will call one day to tell me to stop writing about you,
and I will tell you I will,
when you stop inspiring me.