Thank you for letting me know that I could still fall,

that I could still smile at the simplest things— like good morning and good night texts

or stupid selfies and corny jokes

And while it didn't work out between with us,

now I know my heart could still fall and flutter and love

And maybe one day, it will again

My city boy, have you found your city girl yet?

Might be too late but I was hoping we could make it

With the city lights and the parties that never seem to go down,

Thought ‘no, we are too different to be meant to be’

My city boy, how have you been?

Might be a long while now but it’s you I have been missing

With the smoke up in the air, and the cold wind blowing

Thought ‘hey, maybe we should’ve tried harder’

My city boy, you’ve always been

meant for a different thing, I guess

And here I’d stay, with my music and wide-eyed gaze and the quiet

Suburban girl, that’s what I’d always be

And you, my city boy, will remain where you want to be

Please don’t be temporary.

I’ve had enough of good morning messages that felt like they took only seconds in cycle, of “take care” that lasted only a few days.

I’ve had enough of “I’ll always be here” and “let me take care of you.”

In the end they all left.

In the end, they were all only temporary.

I was their temporary, just a fleeting thought, never a composed one; just a little chat bubble they can choose to ignore or answer.

Soon enough, I’m the girl you only remember when a certain song plays in the car or when a movie plays on TV.

Truth be told, it’s sad to think that whenever another goodbye approaches, I find myself saying, “It’s alright, I’m used to it anyway.”

I never was.

So please, don’t be temporary.

And if you plan to be, at least warn me.