I might have a chance to remember you again tonight. It’s raining outside, and there’s a possibility of a heavy storm at weather forecast earlier this morning.
I might have a chance to remember you again tonight. Because I’m staring at these windows, with a cup of hot coffee. I’m sure it was hot earlier. I just forget how many minutes I’ve spent staring at darkness and get a glimpse of you. Twice? Five? Nine?
I might have a chance to remember you again tonight. Because I started to tune to this radio, a late night program called Heartbreak Radio and they play all of our memory songs. I’m not really sure whether my memory starts to play a game on me. I think whichever songs they play, it will make me remember you more.
Fragment after fragment of you. Spinning and moving in different direction. Calming and heartbreaking. Warming and chilling. As the rain gets heavier, I sit down hours after hours. Until the last drop of coffee and it doesn’t change anything about your memory.
I might have a chance to remember you again tonight. Or should I said, I do? Well, let’s just say I do remember you again tonight. This exact hour is the darkest it can be, of my thoughts of you. And I wonder if tomorrow I will have the same thoughts again. And how many nights that thoughts will visit me.
I’m running out of coffee. I’m running out of time. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Well, maybe tomorrow the rain will wash your fragments and it won’t matter what song they’ll play, my memory will last of this heavy rain.