I hate that whilst I was sitting in traffic I came to the realisation that even when we hung out you never really were with me.
You were in my passenger seat, yes.
I was in your bed, yes.
We were sat in the car by the ocean, in the rug in the park and on the deck of your pool, yes.
But even then you would always walk away, be on your phone, find something else to do.
I don’t know what this means, but I do know that hindsight might be a great thing.













