Don't hang up this time. You said it so quietly I almost missed it. I said we'd talk tomorrow. You sighed. The line went dead. I remember looking at my phone Thinking... She'll call again. She always does. [Pre-Chorus] Three missed calls. One unread message. One stupid night That never ended. How was I supposed to know Forever could fit Inside twenty-three seconds? I thought I had tomorrow. I thought love Could wait until morning. Now every ringing phone Still sounds Like you. People stopped asking How I was doing. They started asking If I was sleeping. Your hoodie stayed On the passenger seat So long It stopped smelling like you. I couldn't move it. I couldn't explain why. Some things Don't hurt all at once. They arrive One ordinary day At a time. How was I supposed to know Forever could fit Inside twenty-three seconds? I'd trade every word I've spoken since For one more chance To answer yours. Almost a year later I finally pressed play. Static. Your laugh. Then... Hey... I'm sorry about tonight. I didn't want you going to sleep Thinking I was angry. Call me When you wake Nothing. Just silence. Twenty-three seconds. That's all The world left me. Now every call Gets answered. Even the wrong numbers. Even at three In the morning. Because somewhere Inside me There's still a boy Watching a phone Ring. Believing Tomorrow Always comes. It doesn't. You said, "Don't hang up this time." I said, "We've both said enough." Neither of us meant Half the things we threw around, But pride has a way Of sounding like certainty. You called Before I made it home. I watched your name Dance across the dashboard. Then disappear. I remember thinking... She'll call tomorrow. How was I supposed to know Some ordinary Tuesday Would become the line My whole life bends around? I thought I was saving words... I didn't know I was running out of them. For weeks I left your number Exactly where it was. Every missed call Felt less like a mistake... More like a room I couldn't walk into. People stopped saying your name When I was around. Like grief was something You could wake up from If everyone whispered. Your mother hugged me... Longer than she should have. I still couldn't ask why. How was I supposed to know The smallest choices Can echo louder Than the biggest promises? I kept waiting For the right moment... Not knowing It had already gone. Almost a year later... A police officer called. He asked, "Are you still listed As her emergency contact?" I sat there... Holding a phone That suddenly weighed More than I did. That night... I finally pressed play. Static. A breath. Then your laugh. "Hey... I'm sorry... I hate leaving things Broken between us. Call me... When you wake up..." Twenty-three seconds. That's all that's left Of your voice. Now every ringing phone Steals the air From the room. Every unknown number Feels impossible To ignore. People say Time heals. But time didn't heal me. It only taught me How to carry Twenty-three seconds Without dropping them. If love ever finds me again... I'll answer. Even if we're angry. Even if it's three In the morning. Even if I think There's always tomorrow. Because sometimes... Forever... Ends While the phone Is still ringing.
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