Sometimes

Sometimes I have to wonder if it could ever be like the pretty pictures that I paint for us in my mind. Sometimes I have to wonder if you regret the words that you speak to me at night when you see them in the morning light. Sometimes my heart races at the sound of the phone or a knock at the door because sometimes I think it might be you.

Sometimes I thumb through the memories of you like the pages in my photo albums. Replaying every single moment, every word spoken, every laugh, every kiss.

Sometimes my mind is able to block the harsh words that you through at me. Sometimes I'm able to forget the heartache and sometimes I can look forward to imaginary possibilities.

Sometimes I can believe that you could be my one. Sometimes.