I like it better when you’re oceans apart because then I don’t have to worry. I am more in control of my emotions. I’m stronger. When you’re far away, you and I may know that I’m not doing very well, but the world doesn’t. They think I’m fine, and I like it better that way.
Now they can see it. They can see it on my face, in my eyes, in my dark circles, in the way I walk and in the way I talk. It’s crystal clear. It’s out there. There’s no hiding it or running away from it. They don’t buy my excuses, when I say I’m just feeling under the weather or having a slight headache. They know something is up.
I like it better when you’re half the world away because then I know I’m not going to see you, and I’m okay with it. Knowing you’re just a couple of minutes away and not being able to see you makes it worse.
Part of me wants to see you, and it’s a lot more difficult to control that part because you’re so much closer.
I like it better when you’re oceans apart because then the other part of me, the one that doesn’t want to see you, isn’t scared. I have to be more cautious as to where I’m going hoping I don’t bump into you. I’m scared I’ll see you and choke up. I’m scared because I’m certain I won’t know what to say or how to react. I’m scared you won’t be the same guy I remember, and I’m scared because I’ll see it in your eyes. You won’t look at me the same anymore.
I like it better when you’re half the world away because then I don’t see you in pictures of mutual friends as much, and I have no idea where you are. I like not knowing where you or what you’re up to. I see things that bring back certain memories, the memories I’ve locked away for so long.
I like it better when you’re oceans apart because then every time I drive past your place, I forget you live there. I forget the memories that come with it.
I forget every little personal thing I know about you, but when you’re here I can’t help but look at the gate because I know you’re there, and I can’t help but remember everything.
I like it better when you’re half the world away because then I feel helpless when I see what you’ve done to yourself, and what you’re doing to yourself. Sadly, I have no right to even try to stop you or help you out, and that is probably what hurts the most. All I can do is sit and pray for the best.
I like it better when you’re oceans apart because then I don’t want to pack my bags and leave. Go somewhere far away where I know you’ll never find me, where I know you’ll never show up.
I like it better when you’re half the world away because then it’s easier to make myself believe that I’ve given up, that I don’t care about you as much as I did anymore, that thinking about our ending doesn’t break my heart into a million pieces.
I like it better when you’re oceans apart because I’ve been homesick for so long and I feel right at home in your arms. When you’re far away, it feels like I’m lost and it’s impossible to go home, and so I become numb to the agony of longing to feel home again. It’s different when you’re here, because then I very well know how to get home, but its gates are forever closed for me.