I like to tell myself
that I'm too good
too smart,
too strong for you

I don't need him
I tell myself
He's going nowhere
I argue

But you make me smile
He makes me happy
And I miss you
And I think he liked me
And I can't believe we aren't
side by side,
watching a movie inside,
laughing in winter's face,
mocking it's cold breath,
warm under the blankets,
warm next to each other,
such simple dream,
such a beautiful idea
He doesn't have to be perfect

But it hurts less, you know
to tell myself I'm too good
to make it about standards
and not the fact that you
never write,
never call,
never speak
I miss him so much

I tell myself it would never happen,
it would never work out,
I don't need the drama
that comes along with you.
And that is absolute truth.
But it's a lie to say that it makes a difference
because here I am still longing
for just a simple hug
and to hear you say my name
with a hint of happiness in your voice,
and to see your face light up with a smile
as my name rolls off your tongue
and is released from your lips

I would be truly happy, I argue.

Yes, I tell myself
that I am too good
that I would reject you
to get revenge,
to feel power,
to be satisfied with my life

But in truth,
I would argue again
And with a handful of the right words,
a couple magic phrases,
I would be right at your side,
if that's what you wanted
and I would start to think again
*Maybe he feels the same way