She Was the Weather and I Dressed for It (Codependent)

Lyrics

I check the barometer in your voice.
The morning forecast in the set of your jaw.

Tuesday was high pressure. Bright sun.
The kind you don't trust.
I cleared my calendar.
Left the book I was reading—that one by Beattie from '86—open on the armchair.
Didn't want to miss a single hour of the warmth.
I made coffee the way you like it, milk first.
I walked on eggshells so as not to cloud the sky.

You were the weather.
And I learned to dress for it.
A heavy coat for the silences.
An umbrella for the coming tears.
I kept my own plans in the closet, next to the winter boots, just in case a cold front moved in from the kitchen.

Then Thursday, the isobars crowded.
A change in the air.
I saw the storm gathering behind your eyes over dinner.
The salt shaker put down too hard.
I knew the protocol.
Clear the surfaces.
Speak in low tones.
Keep the phone charged but silent on the counter, waiting for the all-clear that might not come.

You were the weather.
And I learned to dress for it.
A heavy coat for the silences.
An umbrella for the coming tears.
I kept my own plans in the closet, next to the winter boots, just in case a cold front moved in from the kitchen.

My own journal has three pages filled.
All about you.
My own forecast is... what?
Overcast with a chance of you?
I can't remember the last time I felt a breeze that didn't start in your lungs.
Or stood in a rain I didn't see coming from your direction first.

Today, the forecast is... quiet.
Just quiet.
I stand by the door.
I look at my own coat.
And I don't know what to wear.
I don't know what to wear for just me.