if i die tonight i’d die w the regret that i couldn’t go to the movies with you.. i couldn’t see how your face lights up in the faint light of the cinema, how you’d laugh at the scariest scenes, and if you’d look at me looking at you and smile a little.
if i die tonight, i’d die with the regret that i couldn’t take you to my favorite spot in the city. wearing our traditional attires, looking like we just walked out of the pages of that fictional book, lost in our own conversation while the city gets blinded by our shining light of just being the happiest.
and i’d die with the regret that i couldn’t spend more evenings with you sitting in the busiest coffee shop, watching people come and go, as you unfold the stories of your not so good old days, and how you have become this you. i’d have the regret of not holding your hand to give you a little squeeze and tell you how amazing of a person you’ve become from where you came. i’d have the regret of not brushing your hair with my fingers and give you a head pat.
if i die tonight, i’d die with the regret of not sharing more music with you, for wasting days being angry at you, for trying to push you away when we first met.
but i won’t die tonight; not really. maybe just the part which i have given to you. just the part which still wants to hold onto those regrets. and when that part of me dies tonight, i will erase you from my memory and i will live a life only regretting about knowing your name.