When you caught me crying in that dingy hotel bathroom and peeped your head in and asked me what was wrong. Or when you waited for me to catch my Uber after we were done being intimate. I shoulda told you then. That this breakup was the worst thing to ever happen to me. That I missed you deeply. That I wasn't okay being friends. That I wanted our love back. Our life back. That I understood your mother was sick but that I needed you too. That we should try again. That it shouldn't end like this.
And now some corny white girl music, because why not?