Your thick rimmed glasses,
striped sweater, black peacoat,
and white SUV from '98.

It's been over a year,
and I thought I'd never want you back,
but now I see,
I can't find the perfect man,
because I can't have you.

I can't have your intellect,
or your dry humor,
in my life ever again.
Never.

The messages you don't answer.

The songs I will not play,
I cannot play,
that I would play.