i am carrying you in my dreams, in my heart, when i drive down schonhauser boulevard. the night is crispy cold but i have a heater, i remember the driving and i remember our love clearly.
people say, oh my god, can't you let go already, or things like, you aren't really over him yet, huh
but it's not quite like that. i smile, genuinly, when i think of you and your love now. and i mean that girl.
it is not like that at all. i just - still carry you in my heart. i can't really do anything about it or maybe i just don't want to, not soon, anyways. it is precious to me, in many ways, and while the painful tides have ebbed i still make you room in my thoughts, in my mind, in my heart, in my soul, when i drive down the alley, when i sing a song.
see, there was a dream once, about you and me in this city. i was here and you begged me to come back. and i did and we had our time. we shared some of it. and things were in the open, they have always been, and even though you predicted some fatalities and knew that some thing were inevitable, i fought against this notion, believing one could forge more than one thought. and sometimes, more than one ought to. you know, so what. now it's come that way. maybe it will be as predicted and people say, well, see.
but i still think, it is so wide and open. this life. and we can't see. only so far. and love is the one thing that pervades and penetrates all these time layers and frames and countries. these walls and if's and should haves and haven't. the not's and the yesses, the things that tear us apart and merge our souls in the eternal some when in the later.
i talk of you with tenderness and pain in my voice, sweet, sweet the sting. and i don't know if i will ever meet my friend again, and i don't know if and how i will ever meet you again but i hope it will be in the magic of the now.
it is what it is
maktub
says the alchemist
as it is written.