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