Flannel

You said that I should get a clue. Well, I did, and it was to rid my heart of you. I did exactly what you said I should do, I played the sleuth, and I found a clue.
But I still can’t stop thinking about you.
That standard procedure, you know me. So, fuck with my heart at your leisure, that’s how it goes, or it’s been going lately. You said I was the best, simultaneously the worst, and best case scenario I should be cursed for the rest of my life. Well, I feel like I am, because I won’t ever have you by my side.
Stay warm in that flannel that I left on your bed, there was no way in hell I could put it on after that, 'cause we were both soaking wet. And I apologize if from time to time, it makes you think of me, but just imagine seeing that stupid shirt, every time you fucking breathe. That’s how it feels to be me.
Your heart has proven to be more of a maze than construction season in the heritage hill one ways from someone who is not from Grand Rapids on their very first days. But me, I paid attention on my late night skates and when I was driving around in my van, and now my best friend who has lived here his whole life said I know the city better than him. He said, Ty, its like the back of your hand, I said Alek I’d trade it in a heartbeat for the backbone of a man. I had to change my way home from work because I couldn’t even stand to drive by her and see her on her front lawn, bikini on, getting a tan. Here’s the thing, I don’t need Fountain or Union street for anything except Martha’s vineyard or the bakery. I’ll take the back of the Michigan hill down, Eastern around, and follow Lyon all the way there because this is what I have found: Life may or may not be about finding true love, but it is certainly not about begging for it from someone. I’ll keep doing the things that I do, late nights, fat blunts, pizza pies with my crew, driving home from whatever bar is half-off after two while blasting my favorite tunes, and seeing my favorite local bands at whatever venues. While you keep doing the things that you do, like shifting blame, twisting truth, and making absolutely positively certain that everyone in the room knows the victim just had to be you.
I’ll keep doing these things that I do, and I’ll find someone who wants me like I wanted you.
So, sing along at a show this weekend.
Act a fool, get drunk with these friends that you love.
Someone, somewhere, said all good things end.
So, what in my mind made me think this time would be different?