You're always talking about your hands.
You'll say they're strong and powerful 
But they bring back bad memories
And when you look at your hands, you are reminded
Of all the things that shouldn't have done, 
That you should have done,
That you could have done.
So now, when I see my hands
I think of your hands.
I think of how your left hand held my right one once
And how peaceful I felt in that perfect moment
When we were intertwined by our limbs
And by our souls.
Bu what I didn't know
Was that you weren't thinking of me.
The whole time you were wishing I was her instead.
I was so young, so naive
To believe that I was all you needed
I thought that was how It worked.
I thought that you were for me and I was for you
And you wanted to make me feel wanted.
But that must be an old fashioned concept by now,
Just like chivalry and respect and commitment
And I guess I didn't know that
As I expected you to mean that we would be together
When you kissed me.
I knew I wasn't the beautiful brunette you wanted
But I thought my amber locks would suffice for awhile
And eventually you'd get used to me.
But you never did, because when you looked at me,
You were seeing her sparkling eyes 
And her tall, slender figure.
So I did the most logical thing I could think of-
I found someone new.
And I let him hold my right hand with his left
And I let him gaze into my eyes
And I even let him kiss me in front of my mother,
After a formal introduction, of course.
He was a gentleman,
Who believed in chivalry and respect and commitment,
All those ancient ideas that went to the grave back in the 50's.
He was everything I told myself I wanted.
But when I looked into his eyes,
I saw the magical stormy orbs used to see
When I looked at you.
And so I dropped everything 
And ran as fast as I could 
Because I couldn't take hurting him like you hurt me.
I ran to the only place I could think of that made me feel safe, comfortable.
And on my sprint back to your house
I realized
That he was always you just like I was always her
And I felt like I was trapped in some stupid sort of love triangle that I couldn't get out of
But I was never really in it in the first place.
And by that time, I got to your doorstep and my index finger hovered over the doorbell
But I didn't ring it.
What I did was mentally compile a list of all the things that I wanted to tell you
But I could never push myself to say to your face.
Things like you captivated me and I couldn't take my eyes off of you,
That I fumbled my words when I was in your presence.
Things that I knew you didn't know,
Like that God loves you and he's real and you needed to stop being logical
And accept it because that's the only way this was going to work.
And I wanted To tell you that we would make the perfect team,
That two pairs of blue eyes were more compatible than 
Her tan skin and your pale skin.
But I couldn't think of a way to muster up the courage to tell you that,
So I just pulled a sheet of notebook paper out of my paisley backpack
And scrawled down a few words for you
And folded it up the way junior high school kids do
And slid it under your front door with my hands.
And it said,
"I knew you were right for me from the very first time you told me your name,
Because you're everything I told myself I didn't want
And yet you make it all fall together so perfectly
That you're imperfectly perfect for me."