Author's Note: Songfic from one of Jewel's older songs.


You Were Meant For Me

I hear the clock
It's six A.M.
I feel so far
From where I've been
I've got my eggs
I got my pancakes too
I've got my maple syrup
Everything but you

A young girl dashes to her new front door with her sister, to find her mom opening it to a nervous-seeming boy. She beams at him from behind her mother, breaking the ice by inquiring if he had ever played her favorite computer game. He smiles graciously, stepping in and following the excited second-grader into a room, nervously fiddling with the key on the Yosemite band around his neck. He sits behind her as she happily explains the rules of the game, and he doesn't leave until hours later.

I break the yolks
And make a smiley face
I kinda like it in my brand new place
Wipe the spots off of the mirror
Don't leave my keys in the door
I never put wet towels
On the floor anymore 'cause

The girl and her sister two houses down with towels slung over their shoulders, walking into the boy's house and straight into his room. He is on his computer game, playing 'their game', and the girl flicks him in the forehead, and he consents to save and they walk into his backyard. He pushes her into the pool, and she screams and splashes him as he cannonballs near her face. Her sister laughs and jumps in as well, and they proceed to play 'King of the Buggy Board'.

Dreams last
So long
Even after you're gone
I know
That you love me
And soon you will see
You were meant for me
And I was meant for you

The boy and the girl happily toss a softball between eachother, talking as they do so. They are a little bit older, and are a little bit more competetive. As the girl throws the ball in the air to catch it for herself, the boy rushes forward, and they proceed to wrestle over the red-thatched leather. She manages to pry it out of his surprisingly strong grip, only to be tackled again. They roll over the grass, laughing, careful not to hit any sprinklers.

I called my mama
She was out for a walk
Consoled a cup of coffee
But it didn't wanna talk
So I
Picked up the paper
It was more bad news
More hearts being broken
More people being used

The girl silently cries in her room on her bed, with the door shut. The door opens and closes softly, and she hears socked feet make their way across the wooden floor. The boy puts a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him, silent tears still tumbling down her cheeks. He looks as if he is trying not to cry as well, for him and the girl's mother had been friends despite his being a kid and her being an adult. The girl confesses to him that she knew that her parents' seperation was inevitable, but he understands that that doesn't make it hurt any less. Especially since her mother is moving far, far away from the young girl and her older sister.

Put on my coat
In the pourin' rain
I saw a movie
It just wasn't the same 'cause
It was happy or
I was sad and
It made me miss you
Oh so bad 'cause

They are a little older, and she is just starting junior high as he is just starting to end it. As with the past five years, they are still best of friends, him practically living at her house, them managing to come up with all sorts of games to keep themselves occupied. She makes eye contact and smiles at him from across the cafeteria, and he raises his hand in greeting and beams back. She turns back to her other friends, her new friends, her eyes occasionally flickering back to her greatest friend of all.

Dreams last
So long
Even after you're gone
I know
That you love me
And soon you will see
You were meant for me
And I was meant for you

The boy and the girl hug tightly; it is a cold February day, and they are bulked up with sweaters. They break apart; the girl wipes a droplet from her eye and she stares mournfully, him now embracing her sister just as tightly, and just as platonically. They promise phone calls, and visits, and her fingers linger on his wrist one last time before he steps into the car, and drives away from her. Months later, she also leaves her home, her memories.

I go about my buisiness
I'm doin' fine
Besides, what would I say
If I had you on the line?
Same old story
Not much to say
Hearts are broken every day

Years have passed, and she goes many days without any thought of him passing through the crevices of her mind. The last time she called him was four weeks ago; the time before that, she couldn't even remember. He hadn't remembered her sister's sixteenth birthday, when, before, he was the first to their front door on that day. She lays her forehead in her hand as she speaks to him; haltingly, awkwardly. He promises a call back. It never comes.

I brushed my teeth
I put the cap back on
I know you hate it
When I leave the light on

After her shower, she towels her hair, and for some reason, her mind turns to him again. She remembers times, in irregular order, spent with him. The tree house they had spent so many hours on, probably lifeless now, forgotten; their strange lip-sync band to the Pokémon: First Movie sound track; 'their game', the game she hadn't touched in years; his hilarious impressions of people; their improvisations; their times on the curb, licking ice-cream and talking of their new movie exploit, or of daily things that they never seem to run short of for conversation material; his quiet comforting as she mourns over the loss of the dog she had had since she had been born. Her secret love for him, his sandy-blonde hair, his wide, deep brown eyes, his delighted and teasing grin. And she smiles at the memory, despite the pang within her chest.

I pick up a cup and then I
Turn the sheets down and then I
Take a deep breath
And a good look around

She reaches her bedroom, and casts a glance around the small, carpeted area. Even here, at a new place, stagnant memories fill the room. The Yosemite keyband, lacking the key, sprawled over the same, wooden desk she's had since she was five. The mirror, on which the back was the traces of their phase in which the three believed themselves to be psychics; dried wax, crude pencil drawings. The little gifts from him to her, once great and loved as they were initially recieved, now only remembered as they were gazed upon. Lastly, the pictures tucked into the wood perimeter of her reflection in the glass; him at the beach with her whole family, her sister, herself, and him kneeling on the sand in the orange sunset, the bottoms of their shorts wet from the salty water; of them all heaving bricks to make a little fort; finally, a solitary of him with his dog. She touches it with trembling fingers, her eyes casting downward in sadness at their loss, at his lack of trying. At her lack of trying. At her lack of ability to speech, to speak aloud her feeling that was long dashed away.

Put on my PJs and hop the bed
I'm half alive
But I've been mostly dead
I... I try and tell myself
It'll all be alright
I just shouldn't think
Anymore tonight 'cause

As she climbs in bed and closes her eyes, a last pang of hurt stabs at her heart before she drifts off into sleep. The image of him is stained on the inside of her eyelids. She had tried and failed to forget, to move on. But her dreams lasted, even after he was gone. For so long.

Dreams last
So long
Even after you're gone
And I know
That you love me
And soon you will see
You were meant for me
And I was meant for you
Yeah, you were meant for me
And I was meant for you


Well?