It isn't the cramp in my legs, or the cold from the floor,
it wasn't you getting your bags, and walking out the door
it isn't the headache from crying, or banging my hand on the wall, it isn't knowing your gone and never going to call.
it isn't the mascara burning into my eyes, it isn't you leaving without saying good bye.
it isn't sitting here, staring at the stick, it isn't the coming morn and feeling of being sick.
it's wishing you were, so i could tell you so. that if you had waited before you were about to go.
all i had to do was take a little test, then we would know what was for the best.
to tell you of all those fun times we could have had, but to tell you most of all, your going to be a dad
