Maybe this time i can forget the way we used to be.
- The neon lights blur into a kaleidoscope of colors as the music thumps through my chest. I’m surrounded by people, their laughter and chatter a symphony of distraction. But even amidst the vibrant chaos, my mind keeps drifting back to you. Maybe this time, I tell myself, maybe this time I can finally forget the way your hand felt in mine, the way your laughter echoed in the quiet corners of our apartment. Maybe this time, the ache in my chest won’t feel so sharp, the emptiness in my heart won’t be so deafening.
I try to lose myself in the rhythm, in the pulsating energy of the crowd, but your ghost lingers. Every song, every conversation, every fleeting glance, it all seems to whisper your name. I tell myself it’s just a phase, that I’ll eventually move on, but the truth is, I’m afraid to let go. Afraid of the emptiness that will follow, the silence that will scream your absence.
- So I keep searching for distractions, trying to fill the void with fleeting moments of pleasure. A new hobby, a spontaneous trip, a whirlwind of new faces. But they all feel like temporary bandages, masking the wound that still throbs beneath the surface. Maybe this time, I tell myself, maybe this time I’ll find a way to heal, to finally let go of the past and embrace the future. But as the night wears on, and the music fades, the familiar ache returns, a constant reminder that maybe this time, just like all the times before, I’m still clinging to the ghost of what we were.
