You left your hoodie on the chair,
Still smells like you were just right there.
I sleep on one side of the bed,
Still scared to move where you once laid your head.
The toothbrush you forgot is in the drawer,
And I still open it like before.
Can’t throw it out, can’t throw you away,
Even if you’re gone, you still feel like every day.
⸻
[Chorus – Soft, broken vocals]
I’m almost me, but never whole,
Like a movie that forgot its soul.
I smile for them, but when I’m alone,
I talk to shadows on my phone.
You were my light, now I can’t see—
You took you… and almost me.
⸻
[Verse 2]
Your coffee mug is still in the sink,
I stare at it more than I think.
I play the song we always played,
Just to pretend the world hasn’t changed.
My mom asked how I’m holding up,
I lied and said, “Yeah, it’s just bad luck.”
But I’d trade peace and sleep and pride,
If you’d just walk back in and say you’re mine.
⸻
[Chorus – Slightly bigger, but still intimate]
I’m almost me, but mostly ache,
Pretending love don’t bend and break.
I dress the same, I laugh on cue,
But nothing fits since I lost you.
You were my light, now I can’t see—
You took you… and almost me.
⸻
[Bridge – Piano only, quiet, almost whispered]
I don’t need flowers, I don’t need calls,
I just want the sound of your footsteps in the hall.
It’s not the big things I miss the most,
It’s all the ordinary things you made feel close.
⸻
[Final Chorus – Back to minimal, last line spoken]
I’m almost me, just not enough,
Still searching for your kind of love.
I keep the lights on when I sleep,
Hoping it helps me feel complete.
You were my home, my air to breathe…
You took you…
…and almost me.
