I hope you think of me from time to time.
I dont just mean in flawless memory
I mean, the quiet nights I stayed up in worry and the others where I rushed to call you in a hurry. Times where I supported your inspirations when I wasn't one of the choices or a detication.
When I was merely an option for reassurance and physical comfort.
It's not an opportunity for a growing relationship, just bridges that were burnt.
Water under the bridge is easy in stained glass windows, but when you tear the film away, there's still agonizing pain within those. Those who are trying to heal and see the sun of their own being. But how does one remember who they were if they're still blind from seeing the truth.
The truth that they were never important enough to be a priority.
So, in false promises and eternal scars into my recollections, I wonder,
Do you think of me from time to time?
