I can't help but wonder what the conversation would have
entailed if he had turned around
I can't help but think it would have been a sad and quick
exchange of awkward faces and hellos
I can't help but create the conversation in my head that I
hoped we would have had
This is when I realize it's better that he kept walking 
This is when I realize I am better off without him 
This is when I'm flooded with all the nightmaric memories of
why I can't stand him 
Now I find it ironic that the rain reminds me of you,
because I hate the rain