(Verse 1) I used to chase fireflies at dusk just to feel magic Now I watch them from the porch and think about the dishes I used to write poetry on napkins in coffee shops These days my handwriting only shows up on grocery lists The small rebellions I loved have gone polite I no longer hum too loud in the grocery aisles I stopped buying flowers for no reason Because “we already have plants” started sounding reasonable (Pre-chorus) It wasn’t a fight, never one big scene Just a thousand tiny adjustments Until the shape I made fit better In the space beside you (Chorus) I’m still here, but softer around the edges My laugh got quieter, my wonder got careful I still love you with everything left in me But I miss who I was when love felt like addition Not translation Not this slow rewriting Of every little thing I used to adore (Verse 2) I used to stay up arguing about the meaning of dreams Now I nod and say “maybe” when you tell me what they mean I used to collect mismatched mugs from every road trip I keep the plain white ones now—they stack better The music I played too loud on Sunday mornings Has become background noise you prefer I turned down the volume on myself So the house could stay peaceful (Pre-chorus) You never asked me to change You just loved the version that emerged And I loved you enough To become her (Chorus – variation) Piece by piece the girl who danced in rain Learned how to carry an umbrella Piece by piece the one who believed in magic Started believing in schedules I still love you, God how I love you But sometimes at night I try to remember What my own voice sounded like When it wasn’t trying to match yours (Bridge) I don’t blame you for the person I’m becoming You’re still the safest place I know It’s just that somewhere between then and now I stopped collecting small wonders And started collecting compromises And I can’t decide Which one hurts more to admit (Outro – gentle, almost a whisper) I’m still here Still yours Still smiling when you walk in the door But every once in a while I catch myself reaching For a version of me That used to keep fireflies in jars Just to watch them glow And wonder where she went And whether she’d still recognize me If she ever came back
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