One day you will sit here,
On these cool leather seats,
And you will say my name and laugh.
Laugh, the way we laughed to fill the awkward silence after "her" name.
Distracting ourselves from the countless "why's" that lead to someone calling Every Sunday.

Every Sunday.

Every. Sunday.


And I guess, you just don't think about these things.

Not until the palm of your hand is wrapped around the hand of another.

You say my name and laugh.
"I" am "her".
"She" is me.