Tonight, he’s just across the hall...

You always hear people talk about "the one that got away"...

But when he got away, he didn't go anywhere.

He tried to save me, when I wasn't willing to save myself.

He wanted to love me, but I didn't even know what that meant.

I kept him just close enough to know his presence, but never close enough to let him truly know mine.

And one day, he stopped trying.

One day, he wanted something new.

But he didn't leave, not really.

He called me when she broke his heart.

That was the night I told him I loved him.

I called him when I decided to save myself.

That was the night he told me he was proud of me.

I have nursed his wounds from the other girls he tried to save.

I have cursed my wounds from the words I didn't know how to say.

Now, eighteen months have passed, but he never went anywhere.

On good days, he's laughing just across the dinner table.

On bad nights, the edge of his pillow overlaps with mine.

He was supposed to be my "one that got away."

Somehow, he became "the best friend that always stayed."