that night that you told me you felt so alone
i called you, and we talked for hours.
we poured our feelings out to each other
like we used to on those nights when we hadn’t seen each other
in a while
and we just felt lonely.

you told me you felt so alone
and it made me feel relieved
because, you know,
i feel pretty alone, too.

and it made me feel relieved because
i thought maybe now,
even though we were still technically alone,
we could be alone together.
together, alone?
maybe just less alone?
whatever it is...

i just thought, you know,
why do this to ourselves?
why do you like doing this to yourself?
why do you like doing this to me?
i don’t like doing this to us, you know?

you said you still cared.
and, maybe you do,
i don’t doubt that maybe deep down, you’re telling the truth,
and its not all *******.
but i also don’t doubt that you don’t love me anymore.

because maybe you care,
but you don’t love me anymore
to care enough, you know?

you don’t love me anymore
to tell me to stay, this time.
is there a this time?
is that what this is?
are we just falling back into this poisonous cycle?
is it poisonous?
because all of the hurt i’m feeling right now
is not from when we were still together,
it’s all from afterwards.
doesn’t that mean anything?
that the only reason
i feel so empty
is because i’m not with you anymore?
the only reason
we feel so alone
is because we don’t have each other?

that night you told me you felt so alone
i called you, and we talked for hours
and i told you this:
that even though this phone call is so sad,
this is the happiest i’ve been in weeks.
and that was true,
i felt happy because finally,
i was, once again, talking to you.