Let me tell you the story of how both of us had problems sleeping, but once we started texting, the darkness didn’t seem so long and lonely.  Let me tell you how I would stay up until mere hours before work or sometimes all through the night, not being able to sleep and not really wanting to.  Let me tell you about how going to sleep meant facing the disappointment of waking up again the next morning.  But let me tell you, baby, how I loved learning about you and how we traded questions to get to know one another.  Let me tell you about the one time we talked on the phone until you fell asleep, and I just sat there for a minute and listened to you, then whispered oh so quietly, “I love you” before hanging up.  Let me tell you about the time you told me that you’d never looked forward to texts so much in your life, and how I felt the exact same way.

Sunday will come
Just a few days from now
An eternity to wait
To say what is long overdue

Sunday will come
And we will confess ourselves
Fear will hold us
Hope will push us closer

And on Sunday
When we both shake in emotion
My hand in yours
We will find a way to work through

She gives the gift of gab!

When her love snapped onto my back, like a rucksack to be worn
The old me died, a rambling man was born.

My words are playing a twisted game of Temple Run
The monkeys are her eyebrows, cocked like pistols, and we're playing Russian Roulette.

My words are emptiness and hot air and imagined shapes, yet not nearly as two-dimensional as constellations.

She's a phrase I just learned, and will incorrectly overuse.
She's a worm in my ear, impossible to lose.

She feels like two cups of tea at three in the morning.
She feels like assembling an RC car without reading the instruction manual.

And by God, those eyebrows.

I need her like rocks need water and snow needs the sun.
I want her like turtles want to fly and eagles want to run.

She's that feeling when rain comes down on an empty highway.
She's half a bottle of Elmer's glue I just dribbled onto my hands.

I miss her like broken bowls miss Cheerios and holey socks miss feet.
I miss her like diarrhea misses constipation.
I miss her like NBC misses viewers who have turned to online news sources.
I miss her like journalists miss exposés.
I miss her like polar bears miss ice caps.
I miss her like avalanches miss snowy peaks.
I miss her like Hiroshima survivors miss World War One.
I miss her like cities miss silence.

Mostly, I just miss the silence.

I miss the the days when we were just "talking".

The days when you felt butterflies every time you spoke to me.

The times when you sent me the cutest messages without the slightest of difficulties.

Back when you smiled up a storm every time you saw me headed in your direction.

Back when we understood everything without the concern for a misconception.

But the honeymoon phase is over and we're no longer just "talking".

Sometimes I wonder
I wonder
Why's everyone looking at me?
Is it because I'm so pretty?
Than my other half says to me
As annoyed as a street musician
On a sunday
Nick your talking to me
..And quite audibly

Tired of talking. Always talking.
Do you understand the potential of silence?
Leave me alone for awhile and you may get your answers.
Stop trying to help me.
I don't want to rely on human help anymore. It just ends in more problems.
Yes I know ignoring the problem doesn't work, but it sure is easier.
Why do we fall? To learn to pick ourselves up again.
Well can I just lay here awhile? The sky is beautiful.
Enjoy it and falling isn't that hard anymore.
And when I'm ready, I know there is One who will lift me up again.