It breaks my heart when you talk about her. It breaks my heart when you are hurting. It breaks my heart to know that no matter what I do or say, you and I will never be able to be together.
I love talking to you, and I love hearing what you have to say about the world. I find your opinion very interesting and relevant, even if it’s dismal and occasionally hard to agree with. I love staying up too late to talk to you, even if we don’t always talk. I love asking you too many questions, even if the answers make me sad.
I just wish you would let her go. I know it’s hard to do, but you have to try. I know you don’t want to forget about her, but it’s better if you do. You could be happy. You could smile that brilliant smile. You could love me like I love you.
My percussionist, your heart may be Missing In Action, but I want to keep it for you anyways. My percussionist, your eyes may be hiding behind tinted glass, but I love to see them anyways. My percussionist, you may be thinking of her, but I’m thinking of you.
My percussionist, I think I love you.
Love, your one and lonely.