Sometimes

Sometimes everyone tells you he's a bastard and you should walk away.

Sometimes you think they're right.

Sometimes you wonder if he ever cared about you at all.

And sometimes you remember the moments, those moments you shared, which no one else can ever understand.

Sometimes you wonder if those moments could ever happen again.

Sometimes you think about calling him. Making things ok.

Sometimes you go so far as to reach for your phone.

And then you remind yourself:

Sometimes the things you want and the things you can have don't coincide.

Sometimes it doesn't work out.

Sometimes there's nothing more to be said.

Nothing more to be done.

Sometimes.