Now that I'm Over You

Now that I'm over you,

pickup trucks don't bother me anymore.

Red ones, green ones, old ones, and even older ones.

I don't think about summer nights in their beds,

nor first kisses in their cabs.

Now that I'm over you,

I can walk around our town with no problem.

I can go antiquing with no issue,

and I can walk the pawn shops without crying.

I don't want to hold your hand,

and I certainly don't want you sneaking kisses at the farmer's market.

Now that I'm over you,

your sister and I can be friends.

I don't see your face in hers at all.

I don't hear your voice in her words, either.

I'm always surprised when she mentions you,

because you've not been on my mind at all.

Now that I'm over you,

I can fall in love again.

I can smile back at a stranger and catch their eye.

I know that I'll be fine.

I know that I don't want you anymore.

I never (write it!) miss you, either.

Thank God that I'm am over you.

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