I couldn't remember how you liked your coffee
which was strange—I made it every day
Do you like it with sugar? Or just plain?
Would you still have drunk it either way?

I couldn't remember the last time you said goodnight
When you'd crawl into bed and kiss my cheek
Now we sleep like strangers sharing a bed
We barely even touch, we barely even speak

I couldn't remember the last time you felt like home
The way your presence filled up the place
Now the distance is growing like a chasm
And your silence has taken up the space

I couldn't remember how this all started
When there are no words left to say
I don't know how to fix  it—or if I ever will
How strange—to love you less than yesterday