Mike, Mike, there's always a Mike.
You're all I think about. As I pack up the remains of a relationship that has barely just ended, I crave having you here beside me. If not in the morning, then at least late into the night as we stay up later than we know we should because we don't want to say goodbye.
We text. All day, every day. For weeks now. Every time I hear that stupid little chime my phone makes, my heart skips a beat. When I see your name on the screen, I forget everything that should be stressing me and focus on whatever you're telling me.
I've tried to help you move through your demons onto bigger and brighter things. I've invested emotionally into your well being. You ask me for advice about some guy named Mike. Mike Diemand. Mike Dew. Mike the Loss Prevention Officer. There's always a Mike. Always.
My advice? Forget about him. Something great is right here, staring you in the face.
We text. All day, every day. For weeks now. Every time I hear that stupid little chime my phone makes, my heart skips a beat. When I see your name on the screen, I forget everything that should be stressing me and focus on whatever you're telling me.
I've tried to help you move through your demons onto bigger and brighter things. I've invested emotionally into your well being. You ask me for advice about some guy named Mike. Mike Diemand. Mike Dew. Mike the Loss Prevention Officer. There's always a Mike. Always.
My advice? Forget about him. Something great is right here, staring you in the face.