over and over
He sits there silently, staring blankly at the scenery. His face rests against his palm, with his elbow resting on the window sill. Occasionally he’ll come to attention and observe a house the train passes, but once it’s out of sight he’ll continue to think his thoughts.
He knows that his time is over and all that remain are thoughts. Somewhat vivid memories that get played over and over again. His thoughts relive the sweet, floral scent of her hair. He remembers times they kissed and wandered through the park at night. This is all that’s left for him and they will never fade.
Sometimes he’s glad that all that happened is over. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to and do it all over again. But is return on investment worth the emotional deposit? Is it love grown from lust, or love grown from love? Regardless of the troubles that still somehow plague his mind, he still thinks of his ex and all the good things that she is.