I still sit there, on the couch furthest from the television in the lounge. 
From there I can get a glimpse out of the curtained, front window.
I used to sit there when I was waiting for you to come see me in excitement. 
Now I still sit here waiting for you to come see me in an utter ball of depression, as I know it won't happen.
But I will still sit here and listen to each car go past and compare it to how yours sounded and hope with every part of me that you come back.