I remember when we both were young, dumb, and innocent.
Had I known that was my last shot at true love with you
I might have tried a little harder…
What I would give to go back, knowing what I know now
With the confidence to pull it off and keep it afloat.
I said, “You know, I’ve always thought that had I told you
You were mine, you would have just obeyed me.”
You didn’t say a word in reply, but just looked away with that shy smile I love.
The rest of the trip was a timid exchange of trivialities, just to pass the time.
I brought you home with me, and you followed me to my room.
It meant way more to me than it did to you.
You weren’t going to let it happen again.
Dejected, I said, “This sucks. Why does this always suck?”
You said, “I don’t know, there’s just too many hormones in the way right now.”
To which I replied, “I think that once we’re all too old to fuck
We’ll find out who each other really is.”
Jon says you feel bad about what happened.
Like you made the wrong choice, and you think it’s your fault.
He says you just want our friendship back the way it was.
The way I always let you think it was.
See, I don’t think it was ever the wrong choice to sleep with me.
I think you should do it happily for the rest of your life.
Our friendship was always more to me than it was to you.
Secret desires floating beneath the surface
Searching for a thin spot, waiting to crack through.
But back then, I was just so insecure and far less direct.
And now you see what I’ve been all along.
Only, you see me without the white horse and the shining armor.
It’s not my fault you need glasses.
If nothing else, I’m patient. I’m docile enough to be seduced for life.
Some women see these as rare and desirable traits.
But you aren’t reading from their study guide.
Both testaments have been deprived of your eyes.
I mourn for them, and you mourn my devotion.
And then I wonder “If you did approve, would He?”
“Is He the one keeping you from me?”
Have I been so completely wrong this whole time?
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s rocked my whole perception.
And maybe I am just that misguided.
Maybe I am the one who’s got this all wrong.
Maybe you have a reason to feel sorry.
And maybe I should share your guilt.
“Call me in twenty years,” I said.
I wasn’t kidding. It destroyed me to say it…
I was collapsing already. I rust easy if I’m not careful.
I have to stay moving. And 20 years should be enough time
For me to find who you could never be.
But you’d better fuckin’ call me in 20 years.
If you don’t, then I’ll die never knowing you did well.
I can’t handle that. It was my job to make sure you came out okay.
Even during that brief period when I lied and said I though of you as my sister.
If you’re ever unsure you’ll make it another 20 years…
I want to be there to see your last chapter play out.
Don’t go out in defeat. If you can help it, win yourself some peace.
Do it for yourself. Do it for me. I need to see you happy.
I need to see you laugh at the past.
I need to see the look on your face when the mascara trails are gone for good.
When you finally begin to forget all the tears that only I can remember.
The ones that still dampen my shoulder. The only shoulder that would take you.
Those tears are the only prize I ever won for my patience and service.
The only un-tarnished prize anyway…
Let me see them transformed.
Let me see you as I always have.
Straight through the mascara trails. Even without makeup.
Let me see you beautiful and alive. As only in my dreams.
If not with me, then with the next worthy man.
And you know I’ll know when I meet him.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again:
I think that once we’re all too old to fuck
We’ll find out who each other really is.
Please don’t deny me this privilege.
I’d consider it an honor to be there when you write your final verse.
And though my entire body will be trembling, beyond control
I promise you that I will lead the applause you’ve been due your entire life.