Sometimes I like to think about picking up the phone and calling you, and hearing your voice once again. Sometimes I like to think about what you might say if you picked up that phone. But I wonder, Would you say anything? Would I say anything? Would there be anything at all to discuss? I suppose we're too different now to talk about anything of any importance.
Sometimes I like to imagine us talking again, as if nothing had ever happened. And sometimes I wish I could just meet you for the first time all over again and express just how much I appreciated you. And we could laugh and exchange whispers of sweet nothings far into the night, just like we used to. We could live in a world of perfection once again.
But, I know that you're gone. And I know there's nothing in this world that can change that.