I’m thinking of her a lot lately
And how the failure of our friendship
Is such a perfect metaphor
For everything else in my life as well
It’s the kind of story I wish I could’ve written
Except that fictional me
Would have to have his happy ending
Tied up neatly with a bow
While reality is never that neat and tidy
And who knows what my end shall be?
That’s for me to live and find out
And while I miss her
And think of her with fondness
And some regret for how things were left
I’m in no position to change the past
And there’s no point in worrying
About things out of my control
So it’s time to carry on