("This isn’t a song—it’s just what I couldn’t say.")

I still drive by where you used to wait

Same light flickers on that broken gate

You left your hoodie in the backseat

I never wore it — but I couldn’t leave it

I don’t say your name when I’m with friends

But I spell it out when the chorus ends

You’re not a ghost, you’re just a page

I keep re-reading when I should’ve walked away

(And I know... you'll hear it...)

You’ll hear this and know

I never moved on

It’s not an “I miss you”

But maybe it was all along

You’ll hear this and feel

What I meant to say

I never said your name

But you’ll hear it anyway

You laughed with him like we never were

I watched and said nothing, just let it blur

I almost sent a song one night

Just lyrics, no title — but that didn’t feel right

Sometimes I dream you say, “was this for me?”

And I lie and say, “nah, just melody”

But if you’re still listening this far in

Then you already know what I meant

You’ll hear this and know

I still feel the pull

It’s not a confession

But it’s not forgettable

You’ll hear this and wonder

If I ever let go

I’ll never say it was you—

But you’ll hear this and know

I’ll never say it was you

But you’ll hear this

You’ll know it’s true

You’ll hear this and know

It was always you

I’ll play it cool

But I wrote it through and through

You’ll hear this and know

From the way it flows

I won’t admit it out loud

But you’ll hear this and know