Back Home

I stayed up all night reading her tweets, her posts, her conversations. I stayed up all night missing her from afar. There's no point in her knowing anyway. I tweeted too, posted, in response to her, as if I were talking to her, as if I were still there. What is it that makes me do? What is it me and you? I've found that I've lost myself. It's hard, it's strange. That's why I left in the first place, but now I'm here. Back home, by myself, staying up all night. What is it that makes me do? Who am I and me and you?