domingo, 26 de junho de 2011

Someone like you.

I hate to forget. I hate it. Most of all, I hate needing to forget. I hate when I have to forget. But, besides hating to forget, I hate to remember.
I get stuck by moments I lived with someone. It might be a simple moment or something big, but usually, it's - in all the same - a moment that I define as not able to be translated to words, because it was simply great.
But then, I get hurt. By the person with who I lived that incredible moment with. And suddenly, I am stuck by that great moment we lived before. And all that person did that hurt me, is blocked away by that moment we lived together. Because I simply can't forget. Because I find it hard to believe that, someone with who I shared that moment that got stuck inside me, would do something that ends up hurting me.
It feels like a cicle. Someone hurts me deeply. But before that, something incredible happens between that person and I. And all I can think about, is that moment we had together and how is it possible for that person to be the same person that hurt me. I see the moment above the hurt. Even knowing I shouldn't. Even trying really hard not to.
I simply hate not talking to you. I hate that I had to delete all of your messages. I hate that I have to remember myself, everytime, the reason why I should not go talk to you. I hate it. I hate the fact that you, the guy that said all the things you said to me, is the same guy that - in a way - broke my heart. I hate it. I hate how you always find a way back, when I feel like I am close to the done point. I hate the fact that the sweet guy I met, is also, the same not sweet guy to other people; to people that should matter the most. I hate how you always come back saying the right things and smiling that smile of yours. I hate how I get drowned by your eyes. I hate it. I hate knowing the right thing to do, is to say goodbye to you.
I hate having to keep forgetting. I hate having to stop myself from remembering. I hate how I always end up being that girl, no matter how much I try not to.
It hurts. It hurts to forget.
It hurts to remember.
It hurts being stuck in moments.
When those moments, are the moments I had with you.

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