Pages

I keep wishing that things would go back to the way they used to be

But here we are.

Time heals all wounds right? But what about the wounds that it creates?

We put so much faith in the healing power of time, but forget that it can be just as destructive.

It takes time to drift apart

That never happens in an instant

And before things get better, we've spent time living out our worst nightmares

Like how I can walk into a room and notice that I'm not the first person who catches your eye

Or how I wait in excitement to share pages of my life with you

Only to realize that I'm part of a chapter you've already concluded.

So how does it work out?

How can I be the author of my destiny when the pages written in my book do not exist in yours?

Am I living in a world of maybe believe, or has time taken away something we both used to believe in?

And is it really so bad to wish that history could repeat itself?

Because I'm living, but I'm struggling with being present

And why has no one figured out how to hit reset?

I've gone through the ages but there's no proof without pages,

And again I ask

How do I keep a story alive when you keep tearing out the pages?