so I guess this is it

I’ve grown to despise “the end.” You make me feel, and then you’re gone. It’s a sort of emptiness that can never be filled. I’m looking for you in other people. Once or twice I stumble upon someone else, but they’re not you. They don’t have that look to them, like they know me. Do I really have to make you a memory, cast you away in a box, and move on to tomorrow knowing you won’t be there. Why did you leave me? It makes me wish I had never known you at all, then I wouldn’t have this longing. I don’t want to need you, but you’ve tainted me with your mind. Are you thinking about me too? Is there a sense of hollowness you’re trying to seal? Or maybe you’ve found someone else and now you’re happy. But it’s a different kind of happiness. So I’m forced to love you differently, because I can’t stop loving you. Now you’re with her, and I’m just wishing it was me. So, I guess this is it.