He’s not you but I think I miss him.
I don’t love him but I could like him.
He’s just not you.
I’m chasing this high that can’t be reached.
Let’s face it, he’s not you.
He’s close enough to touch though when you’re gone.
He doesn’t touch me like you do.
When he kisses me I sit there searching for feelings.
He’s just not you.
I sleep next to him sometimes closing my eyes hoping that when I wake up it might be you.
It never is though.
He’s just not you.