"When love is not madness, it is not love." ~Pedro Calderon de la Barca
I'll never understand why you only half-leave.
Your name on my caller-id both takes my breath away,
and makes me sick.
You leave just long enough to make me forget,
And then without notice you force yourself back into my life
To remind me that falling out of love isn't as easy as a note on the pillow.
Whatever it is that draws me back for more every time,
That possesses my lips to say yes when you ask me to meet you,
I'll never understand.
I don't know what I still feel the need to tell you everything,
Because I know it's been years since you've stopped really listening.
Yet, here I sit, across from you at a wicker table
Hiding behind the purple of a raspberry mojito,
Facing the sun so that you'll think the tears that well up in my eyes at the sound of her name
Are just glistening at the brightness.
Even a year later, it doesn't hurt any less to go over that scar again with a new razor - same blade, her name
The thought of you with anyone other than me,
Still makes a sigh escape me
And the facade of pretending to care that she's hurt you still drains every ounce of energy out of me.
Only your best friend could love you and loathe you all at once,
And I've damn near perfected the look of nonchalance.
Maybe I think that this weekly session of misery
Will force me to be strong, and not make the same mistakes twice.
But all it really does is make me sick to see you OK, without me.
So sick that I don't eat for days.
And everyone that has come along and had the potential to replace you
Has followed in your footsteps a little too closely...
I always end up second best to some girl i can never be.
How do you even find love, when every person you meet is hopelessly pining for someone they can't have,
Someone they lost,
Someone they never knew, but wish they had...?
It all seems so pointless.
I would like someone to come along and look at me the way you probably look at her.
I wish someone was sitting at a wicker table on a Wednesday
talking about me in such a way, over a raspberry mojito, that would make the person sitting there listening,
Have to smile and think "wow... "
I would like a simple night out with you not be filling with longing, regret, and rage,
So I could go back to laughing easily at your dumb jokes, and falling asleep on your shoulder.
Did we use up all the memories? Is there anything left worth coming back here for?
I would rather be alone, tonight and ever, than have to continue to fill so... replaced
I don't remember what it's like to fall asleep next to someone who won't be gone in the morning.
You were gone long before I got the memo.
File this away with a million other things I want to forget tonight.
The role of being the other girl is getting old, and I'm getting used to sleeping in a bed that's too big.
If I don't let anyone in, you can't hurt me.
You've built this wall with pain and unheard words.
I'm done looking toward the sun and blinking back the rain.
I'll never understand why you only half-leave.
Your name on my caller-id both takes my breath away,
and makes me sick.
You leave just long enough to make me forget,
And then without notice you force yourself back into my life
To remind me that falling out of love isn't as easy as a note on the pillow.
Whatever it is that draws me back for more every time,
That possesses my lips to say yes when you ask me to meet you,
I'll never understand.
I don't know what I still feel the need to tell you everything,
Because I know it's been years since you've stopped really listening.
Yet, here I sit, across from you at a wicker table
Hiding behind the purple of a raspberry mojito,
Facing the sun so that you'll think the tears that well up in my eyes at the sound of her name
Are just glistening at the brightness.
Even a year later, it doesn't hurt any less to go over that scar again with a new razor - same blade, her name
The thought of you with anyone other than me,
Still makes a sigh escape me
And the facade of pretending to care that she's hurt you still drains every ounce of energy out of me.
Only your best friend could love you and loathe you all at once,
And I've damn near perfected the look of nonchalance.
Maybe I think that this weekly session of misery
Will force me to be strong, and not make the same mistakes twice.
But all it really does is make me sick to see you OK, without me.
So sick that I don't eat for days.
And everyone that has come along and had the potential to replace you
Has followed in your footsteps a little too closely...
I always end up second best to some girl i can never be.
How do you even find love, when every person you meet is hopelessly pining for someone they can't have,
Someone they lost,
Someone they never knew, but wish they had...?
It all seems so pointless.
I would like someone to come along and look at me the way you probably look at her.
I wish someone was sitting at a wicker table on a Wednesday
talking about me in such a way, over a raspberry mojito, that would make the person sitting there listening,
Have to smile and think "wow... "
I would like a simple night out with you not be filling with longing, regret, and rage,
So I could go back to laughing easily at your dumb jokes, and falling asleep on your shoulder.
Did we use up all the memories? Is there anything left worth coming back here for?
I would rather be alone, tonight and ever, than have to continue to fill so... replaced
I don't remember what it's like to fall asleep next to someone who won't be gone in the morning.
You were gone long before I got the memo.
File this away with a million other things I want to forget tonight.
The role of being the other girl is getting old, and I'm getting used to sleeping in a bed that's too big.
If I don't let anyone in, you can't hurt me.
You've built this wall with pain and unheard words.
I'm done looking toward the sun and blinking back the rain.
