Moving On

I love it, in the middle of the night he calls me up to ask me how I am, it’s like he knows I can’t sleep so I’m surfing the net or reading a book, instead of studying. I ask him about his shows and everyone else, I miss everyone.

But I let him think I miss his best friend more then him, I lead him to believe that I don’t care about him as anything more then a friend.

If he only knew, if he only knew that I wake up in the middle of the night with his name on my lips and his image in my head, he doesn’t know that I have to down painkillers to be able to sleep again, where he’s not haunting my dreams.

I wish I was in his arms and he cared about me the same way he used to care about his ex. I heard stories about how in love they were and how they met and they fell in love. It was a fairy tale romance that ended just like that.

I just wish he would of never read the first book and I never would of told him the truth. That’s what brought us closer. I’m breaking my own heart by day dreaming, but here comes the time when he’s going to call again.

Exhausted, just wanting to say hi before he hits the bed, or gets convinced by his band mates to go out. If I was different if things were different between us.