If you told me tonight, “I can’t do this anymore!”
I would say: Go in peace.
If you told me tomorrow, “I can’t live without you!”
I would say: Spend your life with me.
If you told me next week, “I’ll be alone in New York!”
I would say: What hotel, what time?
If you told me next month, “My heart is broken!”
Mine would break in sympathy ...
Then break again that it hadn't been me.
If you told me next year that you reminisced
“Fondly, often," and even missed "us,"
I would say that I felt the same ...
But that fondness sounded much too tame.
If you told me at the end that had you been
Two separate women then you would have seen
That one of you would have been for me—
If you told me that, then I would say
That the one you were was the one for me.