Point

How does a person get from point A to point B?
Because here I am, standing at point A with my binoculars, trying to find you at point B.
But there’s an ocean between us. A desert, a forest, a wall, a galaxy.
Point is, that I’m over here and you’re over there. And I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to get to you.
Once upon a time you were here. With me. At point A. But it wasn’t really point A, because then there was no point B. POINT IS, we didn’t need any coffee. For we were each others caffeine. We didn’t need any alcohol. For we could get drunk off our laughter. We didn’t need anyone else, because we had each other.
But 50/50 chances only exist in statistics. Love, is more 60/40. 70/30. In the cute “I love you more” tug-of-war, there can only be one winner.
I guess my point is that you left. My point is that I’m a little high strung, a little hungover, and a little lonely.
My point is, that if I start swimming towards point B, will you meet me halfway?