8 months ago.
It was you.
And I knew I was talking about you.
Because it's true.
It's still you.
Always will be.
It's hard being the last one to move on.
Thinking about what she has, that I didn't, what I did wrong.
8 months ago I wrote the last words.
Still thinking about it, us, you, feels absurd.
It's you, always has been.
But I'll go out, meet somebody else, get back to uni and go back to the life I'm used to.
And I hope one day we meet again, and you'll know.
8 months ago. Years Ago. Days ago.
It was always me.
