...And I bet sometimes you wonder about me
And I just want to tell you
It takes everything in me not to call you
And I wish I could run to you
And I hope you know that
Everytime I don’t,
I almost do, I almost do
I bet you think I either moved on or hate you
‘Cause each time you reach out there’s no reply
I bet it never, ever occurred to you that I can’t say hello to you
And risk another goodbye
We made quite a mess, babe
It’s probably better off this way
And I confess, babe
That in my dreams you’re touching my face
And asking me if I want to try again with you
And I almost do
It's a painful process. But it's a phase by phase process. Each stage reminds you of the pain that once you reach the end, that it is indeed over. Period. Non existent. A distant memory. Over. It takes a certain kind of strength to take the leap and do something about actually moving past the stages and being okay again.
For now - despite initially wanting to be friends, I can't be there anymore without getting the impulse to take the leap again and give it another go. It's not going to happen anymore and we both acknowledged that to some extent - despite bits of protestations. I can't be friends with the specter of us hanging around. We both wished each other the best. But for now, I need some time to switch off and just be able to get over certain things. I need to excise you from my psyche which you seem to have deeply ingrained yourself in.
So to you, I bid adieu.