Timing

The truth is,
I'm still reeling from the damage.

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I want to send you Texas skies,
Glittering pixels against the dark.

I want to tell you you're gonna be okay,
That the years will pass faster than you know
Then you'll be free to be whoever you want to...

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I hope she treats you well.
We don't talk anymore, and maybe
If I'm truly honest with myself,
She's the reason why.

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I miss you far more often than either of us thought I would
You still come up in conversation. And he told me the other day
My eyes still grow soft when I mention you. How could I know?

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I want your life to be off-kilter. I want you to feel like
there's something missing, but you're not quite sure what.
I want you to have in the back of your brain the sense
that contentment just isn't reachable. Mediocrity.
That is your life. You cannot escape.

Some days, I hate you less than others. Those are rare.

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If I knew it was safe to, I'd tell you the only enemy is yourself,
That life isn't as miserable as it seems, that you really should talk to someone.
I'd tell you I still care for you, despite it all. Despite the pain, despite the flaws.

You've got what it takes, maybe. Someday, you'll understand.
If it seems I'm talking down to you, it's not intentional.

I'm just echoing your behavior.

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The truth is, I could never say any of this.
The moment is gone. The scene is through.
But I still think of you, sometimes.
I still miss you.