When You Loved Me

[Verse 1] When you loved me, coffee tasted sweeter, I didn’t notice how the silence stretched. Your jacket on the chair meant you’d come back to me, Now it's just a relic I can’t let go of yet. I memorized the way you dropped your keys— The sound of you meant I wasn’t alone. Funny how someone turns to background noise, Until one day, that silence owns the home. [Pre-Chorus] I left lights on like a beacon in the dark, Clung to routines like prayers I wouldn’t speak. By the time I noticed you weren’t coming back, The room had already adjusted, burying me. [Chorus] When you loved me, I believed in the infinite, Convinced we were unshakeable, deeply sewn. You didn’t go in fury; you simply faded, Stopped showing up for all we had known. Love didn’t crash; it dissolved between breaths, And I’m here, singing to a shadow of a home. [Verse 2] You stayed for the logistics—bills and calendars, Kept the duties but missed the human trace. I could taste the distance in the way you stood there, Every step away etched clear in space. You kissed my forehead like marking an obligation, Turned the radio loud so we wouldn’t speak. I measured your absence by how you lingered, A ghost in the routine, burning through weeks. [Pre-Chorus (building)] There was a surface kindness I mistook for grace, But kindness doesn’t keep the bed from going cold. [Chorus] When you loved me, I held onto certainty, Believing what we built was carved in stone. You left in soft steps, not in anger’s flare, Slipping out quietly, leaving a life overgrown. Love didn’t collapse; it starved without demand, And now I’m here, making dinner for empty hands. [Bridge] I stacked your mug, your keys, your shirt—the evidence, You traded morning warmth for the quiet release. I played our song till the melodies fractured, Trying to pinpoint the night you gave me peace. [Final Chorus] When you loved me, I thought love meant a foundation, Not just a smile that faded under weight. You didn’t break my heart; you drained it slowly, Left me unraveling while you chose your escape. Love didn’t shatter—it faded, turned stale, And here I am, humming echoes into the void. I’ve washed your mug for the last time tonight. The song is still skipping. I’m turning off the light.