But..you settled for pancakes..a lot like me.
Yes, I know I'll never be her. You talk about her at every turn.
But..she's there and I'm here and I make you coffee and we get together quite a bit.
She lived in some wonderful glassed apartment. I live with my grandmother.
Still, we find our way up the sharp stairs at night. Sometimes, you don't leave until almost noon.
Its a good thing I like your smile and wonder if you've ever been in a teen angst movie.
Until then..I'll make you pancakes when to talk of French toast and a faraway love you haven't seen in years.