you know what i'm thinking about, now.
it was too hot outside to do much of anything,
and my car was on low fuel anyway.
[but i bet you didn't know that.]

and i hadn't slept the night before,
and i was ready to tell you that i...
i simply couldn't do this anymore.
but i knew how you felt about running away.

so i stayed, *******, i stayed.
and we ate ice cream with our fingertips,
and never spoke aloud what we felt as we did it.
has silence ever spoken so loud, bbluv?

and in fragments i remember our movie,
and the whole time i wanted to be closer.
so i sat on the floor, and you in your chair,
and wondered if you even noticed me there.

and then i remember hours and hours of night,
being irresponsible and [occasionally] flirty.
but we had to get up in the morning,
so we tried to stop our endless flow of words.

and i remember calling you after i wrecked my world,
and i paced around the house in my barefeet,
and whispered what happened, what i was afraid of.
i remember you mentioning my drunk texts, too.

and yes, i remember slurpees and wasting time inside.
not because it was hot ouside,
but because i just didn't want to leave.
i didn't get anything else done that day.

and i remember the feel of your bed, your pillow,
so different from the couch i had been sleeping on.
and i remember this look in your eyes, and i...
didn't know what it meant, at the time.

and, you know, i wish you weren't sorry.
for driving me away, i mean. that's okay.
but the way you did it tore me apart.
i'll be way too honest here and say it changed me.

i kept waiting for it to hit me,
day after day after ******* day.
you weren't coming back, not ever.
but still i waited, and still i wait.

and then, at the show, there was nothing.
i don't even know if you noticed me.
and that hurt me more than anything.
but i know i liked that your shirt was different.

and i also know i could understand.
because you said that last time,
and i got it, didn't i? i got it.
so don't tell me i won't. just don't.

tell me you miss our slurpees,
and you miss sweating by your pool,
just to delay my leaving a little bit.
even if it meant our legs got soaked.

and then you have to tell me this:
you don't want anything back, and
you don't want anymore late nights,
and you don't want anymore desperate phone calls.

and then i'll let it alone, and be okay.
and i can say this honestly.
because i know you, and i know...
it simply won't happen that way.

"but we both know this won't happen.
because i don't know goodbyes,
and i don't know severed ties."
i know you don't, so stop pretending you do.

you know, you're wrong about something.
you're excellent at leaving. you just **** at staying away.
but is that because, maybe,
you don't want to stay away from me?

so embrace october,
november, and december.
we'll exchange pumpkin pictures,
and costumes too.

we'll send pictures of thanksgiving,
and complain later we ate too much.
and we'll send anonymous presents,
and detail our new year's eve.

and then, what do you know?
we'll have come full circle.
and maybe, just maybe,
this will be yet another year of snow.