someday ray? maybe.
so every three days.
you showed up at my doorstep at two thirty this morning, just as i'd laid down to sleep, and said "every three days, i cant get you outta my head."
i think last night, we talked about more, then we have in our whole relationship. ever. and we just sat outside, in the swing, and i finally didn't care if i ran you off or not, because i'm actually just kind of tired, of being like this. about you.
so i said: "what're you doing ray? why're you even here."
you reply with a question, like usual: "well, what're you doing?"
i got angry. i told you you had a lot of nerve, the way you were. i said i was just now, coming out, of everything i'd been buried with. since you left. i said, do you know what it feels like, to walk away from a relationship everyone thought was perfect, feeling absolutely inadequate? because obviously i keep doing the same thing wrong.
yeah. falling in love.
and i did with you. fall in love, anyway. and maybe that was my biggest mistake ever. and maybe it was meant to be. maybe all this pain i've gone through lately, was justified and you and i are actually, meant to be together.
i think the whole things kind of amusing. because the tables have almost turned, apparently. and now you're the one begging me. and you're the one saying things like, "i've tried to date other girls. but all i do, is compare them to you. the way they hold a fork. the sound of their voice. when they do something, to rub me the wrong way, i say to myself 'lindsey would never make me feel this way. lindsey wouldn't do it that way.'"
interesting.
while in Vegas, your dad asked if you would've rather had a girl with you, and you'd said, "possibly." then he'd asked, if anyone, then who? to which you shrugged your shoulders and said, "i dont know dad." he called your bluff, though. he said my name and nodded. he told you, "she was a good girl ray. a good girl. she needs to come by the house more. make sure, you bring her by for Sunday dinner again."
your dad knows we're broken up. but he also knows, you're still hanging on. somewhere. i guess he doesn't blame you.
you said you talked about me constantly, to your friends. you said some of them haven't even met me yet, and they're all sick of hearing my name. you told Jimmy, "she's probably the best thing, i've ever lost." and he said to you, "you pushed her away. so if you want her back, you've gotta learn to crawl, before you walk."
when you told me that story, you turned to me and said, "so i'm crawling."
good. you should be.
i let you see your 'ray box'. you sat there, on the edge of my bed, and fingered through the articles with sadness in your eyes. you pulled out each one, and said out loud why you remembered them.
and i just laid there, trying to figure out if this were some kind of sick dream, on my part.
you told me you weren't gonna give up.
i told you, i didn't know how long it was gonna take me. before i was okay again. you asked last night, as we lie side by side, on the covers of my bed. you asked if you could spend the night, that you'd sleep on the floor, but you just wanted to wake up with near me.
i thought for a while before shaking my head, no. i said "do you understand, i want you here, but i'm not ready to have you here." you said you didn't, but you'd figure it out on the way home.
i said my heart wasn't strong enough and i think that pissed you off.
we kissed again and you still make me breathless, with just your mouth. and you looked at me last night, like you did on my birthday.
and that was like having my heart ripped out and torn to shreds. then glued back together and replaced, like nothing happened. at all.
you said: tonight, i showed up without asking because i was scared you'd say no. i figured, face to face, at least you'd tell me why. if you shrugged me off, i'd see it in your face that you're finally over me. and i knew that you'd either one, tell me to leave or two, we'd talk. and here we are talking. and i may not be wanted, but i just need to know if i'm even accepted. all this stuff i'm putting forth. wanting you back. i know i hurt you, and i'm sorry. but i want to fix this. because yeah, i'm still scared. but once apon you loved me, and i want to get back to that, someday.
someday.
perfect word.
you showed up at my doorstep at two thirty this morning, just as i'd laid down to sleep, and said "every three days, i cant get you outta my head."
i think last night, we talked about more, then we have in our whole relationship. ever. and we just sat outside, in the swing, and i finally didn't care if i ran you off or not, because i'm actually just kind of tired, of being like this. about you.
so i said: "what're you doing ray? why're you even here."
you reply with a question, like usual: "well, what're you doing?"
i got angry. i told you you had a lot of nerve, the way you were. i said i was just now, coming out, of everything i'd been buried with. since you left. i said, do you know what it feels like, to walk away from a relationship everyone thought was perfect, feeling absolutely inadequate? because obviously i keep doing the same thing wrong.
yeah. falling in love.
and i did with you. fall in love, anyway. and maybe that was my biggest mistake ever. and maybe it was meant to be. maybe all this pain i've gone through lately, was justified and you and i are actually, meant to be together.
i think the whole things kind of amusing. because the tables have almost turned, apparently. and now you're the one begging me. and you're the one saying things like, "i've tried to date other girls. but all i do, is compare them to you. the way they hold a fork. the sound of their voice. when they do something, to rub me the wrong way, i say to myself 'lindsey would never make me feel this way. lindsey wouldn't do it that way.'"
interesting.
while in Vegas, your dad asked if you would've rather had a girl with you, and you'd said, "possibly." then he'd asked, if anyone, then who? to which you shrugged your shoulders and said, "i dont know dad." he called your bluff, though. he said my name and nodded. he told you, "she was a good girl ray. a good girl. she needs to come by the house more. make sure, you bring her by for Sunday dinner again."
your dad knows we're broken up. but he also knows, you're still hanging on. somewhere. i guess he doesn't blame you.
you said you talked about me constantly, to your friends. you said some of them haven't even met me yet, and they're all sick of hearing my name. you told Jimmy, "she's probably the best thing, i've ever lost." and he said to you, "you pushed her away. so if you want her back, you've gotta learn to crawl, before you walk."
when you told me that story, you turned to me and said, "so i'm crawling."
good. you should be.
i let you see your 'ray box'. you sat there, on the edge of my bed, and fingered through the articles with sadness in your eyes. you pulled out each one, and said out loud why you remembered them.
and i just laid there, trying to figure out if this were some kind of sick dream, on my part.
you told me you weren't gonna give up.
i told you, i didn't know how long it was gonna take me. before i was okay again. you asked last night, as we lie side by side, on the covers of my bed. you asked if you could spend the night, that you'd sleep on the floor, but you just wanted to wake up with near me.
i thought for a while before shaking my head, no. i said "do you understand, i want you here, but i'm not ready to have you here." you said you didn't, but you'd figure it out on the way home.
i said my heart wasn't strong enough and i think that pissed you off.
we kissed again and you still make me breathless, with just your mouth. and you looked at me last night, like you did on my birthday.
and that was like having my heart ripped out and torn to shreds. then glued back together and replaced, like nothing happened. at all.
you said: tonight, i showed up without asking because i was scared you'd say no. i figured, face to face, at least you'd tell me why. if you shrugged me off, i'd see it in your face that you're finally over me. and i knew that you'd either one, tell me to leave or two, we'd talk. and here we are talking. and i may not be wanted, but i just need to know if i'm even accepted. all this stuff i'm putting forth. wanting you back. i know i hurt you, and i'm sorry. but i want to fix this. because yeah, i'm still scared. but once apon you loved me, and i want to get back to that, someday.
someday.
perfect word.