That moment when you attempt to move on,
And you find a little ounce of happiness in something that has nothing to do with him..
And a faint voice inside you whispers back his name,
And asks you, “what about him? Did he move on?”
Then you mentally reply to yourself,
Convincing yourself that,
“He’s okay, he moved on, accept what’s happening right now, don’t look back”
But you find yourself with the phone on your ears,
And you’re waiting for someone to pick up…
Who am I calling?
Then you hear his voice.
And although that moment of happiness,
That moment of satisfaction was just about
to write a new chapter,
You’re back to a couple of chapters behind… revisiting those feelings,
But also relieved…
As you hear his stupid voice, that you love so much.
That you still love.
But wish you can just