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I kept your photograph beside the kitchen door
The corners curled from every time I touched it
Your coffee cup is still above the sink
I tell myself I’ll move it but I don’t yet
The house gets wide when evening settles in
And every room remembers where you’ve been
If I could call you I would lose my pride
I’d say the quiet hurts on every side
I’m learning how to breathe with you gone
But every morning proves me wrong
And when the night comes through
There’s nowhere left to hide from missing you
I took the long way home beneath the winter trees
Past the little bar where we first met
A guitar was playing something soft and out of tune
It sounded like a promise we had left
I wore a brave face for the afternoon
Then heard your name inside an empty room
If I could call you I would lose my pride
I’d say the quiet hurts on every side
I’m learning how to breathe with you gone
But every morning proves me wrong
And when the night comes through
There’s nowhere left to hide from missing you
Maybe love is not a door that closes
Maybe it stays in smaller things
In the way I fold the towels you used to leave
In the song the old telephone still sings
If I could call you I would cross the years
I’d bring you all the words I lost in fear
I’m learning how to live with you gone
But some part of me still carries on
And when the night comes through
I hold the world we made and I still choose you
I still choose you
The photograph stays by the kitchen door
And I don’t turn away from it anymore
