We used to write each other letters, such beautiful letters.
And every time I’d see my name in her handwriting on an envelope
My day would get a bit better.
I didn’t forget her; how could I ever forget her?
Now all that’s left on my desk, in the dust and neglect
Is some envelopes, empty as ever.

It’s a terrible thing to share everything that you’ve got
With the one person who matters
And have it not really matter.
We used to write each other letters.

And then one day you dried up -
I just imagined you were kind of tied up -
God only knows I didn’t want to impose
So I just bit my tongue with a stiff lip
Until it was far too late for me to even contemplate
Writing again just to ask where you’d been,
So I guess we just settled on stalemate.

God dammit now, this wasn’t part of the plan,
And I let you down, but please understand,
You have to bear with me if I’m fucking this up
Because the truth is I’m useless at opening up.
Both of us know it wasn’t love in the end,
You were more of a teacher, a distant best friend,
I’ve been missing your missives, and mourning our youth,
And if we got on the phone we’d tell each other the truth and say

I’m tired of just making do, I’m tired of just muddling through.
Aren’t you tired of just making do, tired of just muddling through?

It’s a curious thing to doubt everything that you’ve got
And get saved by a stranger
You knew when you were younger.
I’m going to write another letter,
I need to try and put it better.

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