I don't cry near as much anymore,
I'm not quite sure now what I was crying for.
The lost opportunities, the time that was spent,
Or the fact that I'm not sure what it all meant?
When I think of the times, they seem bittersweet,
Up until that last moment, in the pain of defeat.
No more looking ahead, no more looking behind,
I'm free to make my own choices and speak my own mind.
And the conversations I have with myself,
Are better than memories sitting up on a shelf.
The box full of you I put under my bed,
Just trying to get US out of my head.
The promises broken, the dreams that were shattered,
The days when our love was all that truly mattered.
I know that in time, I'm getting over you
I only wonder sometimes if it's what I'm supposed to do.
It seems so amusing how quickly things change,
And how easy our lives are to rearrange.
I'm good at adapting, I've proved that again,
I guess I'm just not good at understanding men.
