<Verse 1> Your mom saved me a seat in November like it’s casual, like it’s nothing. I show up polished, play it normal— good manners, no rushing. Smiling like we’re just friends— like she didn’t hear us last time. That half-whisper, that hallway laugh— “where do I sleep?” “where do you want to?” You said “come visit,” I said “I’m in,” then I took a job with miles between. You went west, I went quiet— two people who mean it, acting like we don’t. <Pre-Chorus> We only call it real if we share the same streets, but we won’t cross them for each other on purpose. We say “don’t move for me” like love can’t hold weight— like pressure would crack it. So we keep it clean, keep it light, keep it almost, keep it polite— and everyone watching is thinking the same thing, but we don’t say it first. <Chorus> We’re modern Cathy and Heathcliff— it’s me, I’m Cathy, at the door. Everybody’s yelling “be together,” and we smile like we’ve never heard before. I send the videos captioned “when friends…” you laugh too hard, then it ends. We want the same life, we fit too well— so why do we keep choosing parallel? <Verse 2> When the “safe” one doesn’t work, I tell you first. Not to twist it—just because it’s you. You make a joke, I let it land, then we both feel the room shift too. You invited me into your family— Thanksgiving like it’s already decided. But we won’t do the simple part in daylight, so it stays implied, then it stays divided. <Pre-Chorus 2> It’s not one villain, it’s two precautions. Two pride habits dressed up as calm. We keep choosing distance in tiny ways, then missing each other like it’s a law. <Bridge> When we’re together it’s easy— we laugh like we’ve got our own language. We want the same mornings, the same pace, so let’s stop treating “maybe” like damage. If it has to be the same city, fine. Say the city. Say the month. No more “don’t move for me”— just come, or let it go, or we’ll keep doing this forever. <Final Chorus> Modern Cathy and Heathcliff— it’s me, I’m Cathy, at the door. Everybody’s yelling “be together,” and we smile like we’ve never heard before. “When friends…”—yeah, cute, we know. Laugh too hard, then we let it go. We want the same life, we fit too well— so why do we keep choosing parallel?
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