It kills me to even guess the number,
The number thats killing me inside,
The number that causes me to cry,
The number of times I think of you per day,
The number of times I look at our picture,
But mostly the number of miles that keep us apart.
Don't get me wrong, that number definitely did me some good.
Its the number of miles you traveled on the road that just happened to lead you my way.
And without that number, to me you'd still be just a friend of a friend that doesn't mean anything.
But that number brought you here, to me.
And of course you just had to be the guy that I fell for.
And then that number came and swallowed you up, took you home.
But don't worry, I'll get over you soon because you're only the type of guy I've been dreaming about since I was 5.
But somehow this all takes me back to that number-
the number of times I think about you per day, the number of times I look at our picture, the number of miles that keep us apart, or the number of days until we're together, in the middle, with no numbers once again.