If you would have asked me to stay
i would not have said no,
it would never have meant yes

I despised those pants you used to wear, the ones that fell too short and landed too far above your shoes.
it made you look like a child who had out grown his pants.

your mom gave me a look of distrust; she was always right about me.

I didn't cheat on you the morning in March when you accused me, although I wanted to.
in June I cheated with the bartender from the karaoke bar where you sang Bob Marley that one spring night.

I thought I would regret it, I didn't.
I told you I loved you because you said it first, I didn't mean it for another 3 months.

I never liked your singing voice,
or New York City.
I still dream of the way you looked at me the first day we danced.
I cried about you last week stuck in LA traffic.

I think about you every other morning, and when I'm drinking red wine.

you were always a lover. sometimes I just needed a friend.

Ive tried to convince myself it wasn't my fault-
the truth is you would never have been enough
my burden to bear is that I'm addicted to chaos… excitement… fire.

Your burden is that you cared too much.

you are tranquil, I am a hurricane.

I want to make you laugh again.