We had spent the entire day together doing absolutely nothing. You took a nap as I watched from over my phone, just avoiding writing papers that were past due. We were avoiding something else too. Our time had come to an end
Your phone kept going off but I just couldn't wake you up cause every moment in which we were awake together would break us soon enough. Your mom and dad called way too many times. I could hardly take the lines they spoke of flying planes and states of minds. Then it was time
I put my bags upon my shoulders and told myself I'd keep the crying inside, and you said to put my bags down. Slowly we embraced, but you wouldn't let me see your face. You had been saying that it'd be fine. I knew if I could see your eyes that they'd say: "Nevermind. It's not fine this time."
When I tried to break away, you held on tight I barely heard you say: "Wait. That's not good enough."
With your head resting on my shoulders, I knew the next few months would be much colder for you while you're home. Even though you said it'd be fine, when I left the room I realized if I could see your eyes that they'd say: "Nevermind. It's not fine this time."