I always wonder what it would be like to see the other side of everything we once had. Maybe it’s just me, but sometimes I still wish for somebody to love, even though I know it won’t be you. I used to think I wanted to be yours, but the same old story keeps playing in my head like a loop, a tragic magic that never seems to fade.
It’s funny, isn’t it? How nothing’s changed, how we’re all just trying to figure out who we really are, but we keep pretending to be something else. I tell myself to be yourself, but the truth is, sometimes that’s the hardest thing to do when you feel like you've lost who you were.
I still get lost in it, the way I did back then. It’s more than a feeling, it’s like home sweet home—an idea that I keep going back to even though it’s been long gone. We all have our secrets, and I think mine is the way I still find pieces of you in everything, even when I wish I didn’t.