It’s hard, when the weekend comes. When you and me are no longer. The missing you begins. Or rather is more apparent.
It was hard, when the weekend came. When me and you were together but didn’t get along. The wanting to lose u began. Or rather was more apparent.
Which is better? To be with the love that hurts or be without the love which hurts.
A lonely time at times….but not so lonely at other times….eventually all gets better. All passes. All the hurt. All the resentment. So they say.
Just adjust to the loss and move forward.