You know you can't keep it.
You tell me you're sorry.
But that I should think more about you and how it is affecting you.
I thought you were done with this.
You claim it's hard to get over. And I know those things are.
But figure out a way to make it easy.
Cause this isn't good for us.
You say you don't want to lose this friendship, and that I won't talk to you.
But I'm here aren't I?
I'm trying to figure out what is planned, but life is just a haze.
A glimpse here, a glimpse there.
But never of what you and I will be.
It's like a baby tree.
You never know how fast it'll grow, or when it'll sprout.
What it'll grow, no matter how long you doubt.
So let it blossom, into what it's meant to be.
So please, don't push me. Give me time, just like that cherry tree.
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