You closed you eyes,
told me you were psychic,
in tune with my feelings,
could feel my pain,
saw my wounded heart,
knew how badly I wanted
to be loved, understood.
You promised to try
and be the one, told me
how your wounded heart
had only one shot left too.
You sang me "Keeper of the Stars",
talked about fate and the past
until three a.m. and told me
what you wanted, needed,
pulled at my heart strings
when your voice got soft
and you called me sweets,
honey, doll, angel...
You invited me to Montana,
told me how blessed you were
to have found someone like me,
the woman of your dreams,
and two months later...
You don't return my calls.
You still aren't ready to
make me a part of your life.
You are avoiding me.
I got too close,
wanted too much,
made you ponder
the "L" word for
a few fleeting instances,
made you think about
opening your heart and
it scared you.
So now what?
A month vacation
for you to decide
if you're ready while
I spend my nights alone
and you live yours without me.
Does your supposed
inner psychic tell you
how much you are hurting me?
Did you feel my tears last night,
the ache in my heart? Or does it
only work when you are trying
to impress a woman with
your sensitive side,
the one that packed its bags
for a vacation yesterday,
not caring who was...
