If I could talk to you now
I’d ask so many questions

How did you do it?
How did you lay it all aside, set it down, and move beyond it?
And do you think I’ll get there?

Do you ever still watch the sunrise?
Do you sit on the roof?
Do you remember it?

You can’t really pocket dial anymore, did you notice that?
It made me sad when I did
Tonight, in the cold, a memory flashed from the depths of my mind
The cold and the wind, they always bring it back

After closing shift, late at night
Country road, windows down
Singing at the very top of your lungs

The special ringtone
The rush of the wind from your window
The shitty bass in that red car
The rasp in your rough voice

I’d crouch at the end of my bed
Alone in the basement, clutching the phone to my ear
Listening, smiling, stifling my breath
And laughing, your laugh, full and unabashed when you’d yell my name

It’s a nice memory
Hides some of the not so nice memories
Do you still sing in the car?

You can’t really pocket dial anymore
Did you notice?

You can’t watch a sunrise from the roof
Do you remember how cold it use to get?
And how we didn’t care?

I can’t take that country road to your house
And neither can you

If I could talk to you now
I’d ask you so many questions

I’d ask how you are
I’d ask who you’ve become

I’d tell you who I am and what I’ve done
I’d ask if you think it makes any difference at all

If I could talk to you now
I’d ask how and when, exactly, did we grow up
I’d ask when, exactly, did you let go
And if it’s time that I did too

If I could talk to you now
I’d tell you I think I already did