It seems to me that I've
got myself a situation.
The girl I love doesn't even
know that I exist.
The more I think, the closer
I get to a revelation -
when she's away I'll write
my name down on her grocery list.

Even though we sleep
beside each other every night,
she doesn't reach for me. In turn,
I never reach for her.
I try my best to justify it,
but it isn't right.
The hardest thing to do
seems to be the only cure.

Maybe when I'm gone she'll
see the error of her judgment.
Maybe she'll be sorry when
I ain't walking through the door.
They say that time heals all wounds,
but maybe it doesn't.
At least she'll think of me
when she's shopping at the store.