When I stare at my ringing phone.
Some days I call just to see if you'd pick up.
Hoping with every ring that I could just hear your voice.
When the answering machine picks up instead, it brings me to reality.
The reality is I don't know know why I'm calling you.
Maybe I was calling to talk about my day.
But I quickly think about how you probably don't care.
(I'd hope you would care.)
Maybe I called to hear if you are happier without me.
(I hope you're not happier without me.)
Maybe I called because I want to know you're ok.
(I hope you're ok)
Maybe it was to ask about the weather or just to find something to even spend a moment talking to you.
(I need to stop hoping.)
Talking to you used to be the highlight of my day.
That's why I keep holding out false hope.
The hope you'd love me again.
I've tried deleting your number but how can I when I know those 10 digits by heart...









