I discovered this note composed on a little paper in my room. Covered up between pages 253 and 254 in my most loved book. And afterward I giggled.
How might you be able to wish to (ignore/not notice) somebody who once meant everything to you? Who was at one time your joy? Who was at one time the one you loved and honored? Is it (able to be done) for us to (ignore/not notice) somebody just by erasing them in our telephone index or blocking them on Facebook? Is it (able to be done) for us to go ahead/move forward with our lives without thinking about them?
I don't have the slightest idea. I don't know whether I could.
Since as much as I need to (ignore/not notice) you, you're generally there.
Each time I take a look at my exhibition, you are there.
Each time I read my most loved book, you are there.
Each time I drink my (very strong coffee)/dark brown, you are there.
Each time I listen to my blend tapes, you are there.
Each time I attempt to rest, you are there.
Each time I read verse, you are there.
You're generally there, in my fantasies, in my mind and in my heart. (anyway/in any event) I remember how it feels - you holding my arms firmly; your hands were so warm and delicate.
How might you be able to live with that?
Leaving alone (and forgetting) me a too much/too many number of memories to recall.
I've been hurting throughout the last few years, and I understand why I wind up composing writes/writing and (complex piece of music) about you.
I compose because of the fact that some way or another it helped me to reduce the extreme pain of recalling that you. I taste my (very strong coffee)/dark brown each morning, remembering how it tasted the last time I had it with you.
Nectar, you're my (drug that gives you energy); you are (something that's impossible to stop doing or using) and (nice-looking/well-behaved).
I was only unemotional on the day when you figured out how to leave me. Looking at you slowly disappearing into the skyline hurt so much and I (understood/made real/achieved) that was the end of having you. Every (development or increase over time/series of events or things) you took brought separation, (separating far from others) us and all the great days we had.
You're almost the same as a stain that never blurs away.
Who let you know that time gets better all injuries and tortures? Time doesn't get better anything. You simply need to push ahead with your life since you need to, because of the fact that you have to.
You bring across the injuries constantly (forever), until you figure out how to handle it and (ignore/not notice) it for a little time and after that you feel it once more. It's generally there, the torture and the worry and depression of losing somebody who was (before that/before now) the purpose behind your happiness (from meeting a need or reaching a goal).
That is the manner by which it works. That is the way I attempt to go ahead/move forward onward from you, managing torture regular.