The art of spilling over

Hey you,
I’m still checking my inbox for your emails
they never come,
still wondering if you’ll ever send that letter
well, I guess not,
I was so easy to let go of

I’m still checking license plates
wonder if we’ll ever accidentally collide
if you’d even bother to say hello,
well, I guess not

I still have that guitar and tattered amp
still have those gifts and other things
guess you spent a lot on me
when money didn’t mean a thing to you
could never fill a room with you

I still have that note you wrote
the one with all your answers
but no apologies,
That note you asked me to burn
the one I kept instead

I still dream that you were something
somebody that wanted to take me out,
somebody who didn’t let me down,
I’m still hitting the ground

Hey you,
why was I so easy to let go of?