I woke up to your phone call. You were crying so I came picked you up. I didn't say much but drive as you let out all that was afflicting you. I heard my lungs fill with air. All I could say was I'm sorry. It made me wonder how long the good things really last, and if love's just an archetype for movies. Not something that stayed with you. I think a lot of hope I carried died that day. I don't think anything really lasts at all.