Isn’t it funny that we can breathe the same air even when we’re so far away?
Maybe that’s why it feels like you’re inches from me.
And I knew you the least when you were closer than ever.
Why do you have to be so far for me to fully understand you, as you are?

When I make love with her I close my eyes and think of you.
We could be young forever, and maybe that’s why I’ll remember your body.
Does it even matter that you’ve let go of me?
We’ve let go before.

But maybe I’ll stop dreaming of us, day trip with another in my arms, and be happy.
Maybe you don’t love me, or maybe you do. It doesn’t matter.
We’ll meet again.
And when we do, will it be different?