Here I go again I promised myself I wouldn't think of you today
It's been seven months and counting
You've moved on
I still feel exactly the same
He cursed himself.
He couldn't help it, yet he had somehow believed he'd be able to do it.
How wrong he'd been.
'Seven Months,' he thought to himself. 'Seven months to get my damn act together, and I still can't shake this feeling.'
He couldn't shake her memory, either.
She lived inside him still, the way true love always does. She was with him when he woke, when he slept, and every second in between. His dreams were vivid with her image, her voice, her touch.
She'd moved on. He was in the same place he'd been in all along. Never faltering in his stance, his emotions, nothing.
It's just the that everywhere I go all the buildings know your name
Like photographs and memories of love
Steel and granite reminders
The city calls your name and I can't move on
He looked out the window of the darkened bedroom and stared out at the city lights. He hardly went out anymore. Everywhere he turned, he'd see her. She was in everything he turned to look at, every person he talked to. Concrete details, proof of her existence, of his feelings...
Of the fact that he just couldn't bring himself to move on.
Ever since you've been gone
The lights go out the same
With a heavy sigh, he shut the lights out. It was always this way, always had been. He'd always been the one to turn the lights out. Then he'd go to her. He'd hold her in his arms, breathe in her scent, and they'd drift off to sleep together.
Now, with the lights out, he realized that this simple action was the only constant in his life; the only thing that's remained the same, intact, since she'd left.
The only difference is
You call another name
His mind wandered, and he thought of how her nights were now. If she was the one who shut the lights off, if she was cradled in strong, loving arms, if she whispered his name before drifting off to sleep, if she dreamed like she did with him.
To your love
To your lover now
To your love
The lover after me
He shook his head of those thoughts. He never could picture her with anyone that wasn't him. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine. Even now, when the reality was in fact that. She'd found someone else, someone who she thought would be what she needed.
Someone that wasn't him.
So this is my new freedom
It's funny, I don't remember being chained
He'd been set free, or so his friends had told him. He didn't feel free. In fact, he never thought of himself as any sort of prisoner during the years they'd been together. He'd always been happy.
Never tied down, never captive.
Always Happy. Always in love.
But nothing seems to make sense anymore
Without you I'm always twenty minutes late
He crawled into bed feeling confused as his mind raged on. No matter what he thought, said or did, nothing seemed right to him. He felt a little off. A little lost.
She'd made him a better person. Held him together. Now, however, everything was a little off. Upside down. Not quite centered. It scared him.
And time goes by so slowly
The nights are cold and lonely
I shouldn't be holding on
But I'm still holding on for you
Who was he trying to fool? Lying in bed, the covers over his head, that wasn't going to fool anyone, let alone himself. He wasn't going to sleep. He hadn't had a decent night's rest in seven months. He dreaded the nights now as much as he'd once cherished them. When his nights were filled with the heat of loving, of being loved, he lived for them. Now they chilled him to the core; nothing he did would make the lonliness leave his room, his heart.
Throwing on his clothes, he made the decision to go out for a drive. Roaming mindlessly down the empty streets may do him some good.
Here I go again
I promised myself I wouldn't think of you today
'You need to stop doing this,' he thought to himself as he drove down the all-too-familiar street. 'It had to end sometime, right? Quit torturing yourself.'
Driving had taken him as far as it would take him that night. Now it was up to his feet to take him the rest of the way. Walking, out in the fresh air, that could help him, couldn't it?
He came to a sudden stop once he realized where he was. He brought a hand up to the concrete wall and, leaning toward it, pressed his forehead against it and sighed deeply.
"I can't do it," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I just CAN'T."
As if he'd willed it, the large oak door that stood a little off to the side opened with a weary creak.
He looked up and fell in love all over again.
But I'm standing at your doorway
I'm calling out your name because I can't move on
"Nick," she breathed, and he could have sworn he saw a sparkle in her eyes as she said his name.
Title: The Lover After Me
Artist: Savage Garden
Copyright ©2001 SO