It starts to feel like living in a hotel room,
Living every night without a goodnight from you.
I wonder when you’ll come and take me home,
I beg you to come and take me home.
Like there’s but one rational approach
You say no; you’re unreachable
On a long, long trip away.
The weather is so sunny; the sky is so blue; these are the shining days we pray land on weekends, and this time, they do.
The first sunny spring day: wardrobes refreshed, passersby pass by with extra kindness. It’s the first sight of blossoms.
You always post photos on beautiful days: these have been the most beautiful days. Where have you been?
It made sense when I saw you’d been out of town, but then again, it might have been a day trip. The sun’s shined and shined and shined, but to these glories, your social is still blind.
Are you depressed? I thought maybe you had blocked me online, blinding only me, but I don’t believe so. Are you depressed? If you are, please tell me; it’s not worth it to separate at such a cost. Are you depressed? Can I help? I’m not allowed to text you, but I want to text you and ask, “Are you depressed?”
Am I making this up? Is it normal to be depressed? Should you be depressed after a break up? I hope you’re not depressed. If you’re depressed, call me.
I’m starting to feel like it’s a little extreme to never talk again just because, oh, I don’t know, we just decided we don’t want to spend the rest of our lives together. We should probably be able to throw in a concert or a hug here or there, without disrupting the rest of our lives. In the meantime, I’ll probably fill in the rest of my life with lots of other people, some better company, many worse. And honestly, we don’t know how long the rest of our lives will be. If it’s a day, I’d actually be pretty okay with spending mine with you.