I fell in love with you inside of a yellow room.
One that many memories had been made in during the past.
One that memories shall be made inside in the future.
Was not just a yellow room. It was the yellow room.
A comfort place to you, if you will.
A place you made me home to, one I felt at home with.

The first time I had stepped foot inside this room,
I was drunk.
I'm not going to say being in love with you a mistake,
Because people tend to blame mistakes on being drunk.
Falling in love with you was a choice.
I chose you.
And you chose me too.

We built a new room for ourselves, different from the yellow room.
I fell in love with you in the yellow room, I was in love with you in our room.
A room we decided to close the door to when we felt everyone else was wrong.
When we felt like it was us against them all.
And we never left this room.
Not then,
But now we have.

One of us decided to step out of the room,
The other had the lock in hand.
I begged you to open that door, but I guess it was bolted shut.
You shut me out of our room.
Does that make it your room now?