In all of many lives,
there's a me and there's a you.
Here's the one
where I meet you at seventeen,
and we're raw and naive
but so eager to please
that we're in over our heads
and find it out way too late.
Here's the one
where I've known you all my life
and settle for watching from afar
so I don't have to say aloud
that I've pledged myself to you
from the second I saw you.
Here's the one
where we don't cross paths
because everything happens a second too fast,
and I live my life with an ache in my chest
I'm never able to place,
and nothing ever makes me happy in the end.
Here's the you and me
that are friends and siblings
and strangers and coworkers
and divorcees and lovers.
The one where you hold me close
and the one where you shout yourself hoarse.
The one where I walk away
and you're to blame,
and the one where you don't want to let go
but I let you anyway.
Here's the one,
the very one and every single one,
where you are you and that's my doom.