On Some Lonely Island

I was scared to see him walk in and nervous, but he walked in just as much. The alcohol on his breath made me more uneasy. We went into our privacy and sat facing each other. Awkward. I began to shake (and I don't know why I do this around him, as I get nervous) and I'm cold now.
He eventually starts to cry. "This is all bad..." We are bad, us. I tell him it's been bad, we've been bad for so long. Nothing is pretty anymore.
"Do you love me?"
"I don't know."
I'd been doing so good at being emotionless, tried not to cry.
I stared up, cried.
He left me in there, walked away after letting me see him crack. He didn't have the courtesy to watch me fall apart, no. (But eventually, he did...)
I layed in bed, and stopped crying. I went out to the car. I cried more.
Back inside I went. I was tired physically from being so emotionally warped. I went to sleep.
He's in there, I feel him, I hear him. I'm waking up.
Dammit, why? Why can't you just leave me alone? Why are you coming back for more? Why are you going to make it hurt worse, just to shove it back into our faces? Let's leave this to ourselves and cope. We haven't had each other in so long, we don't need each other for this. And I don't know where he left to when he walked out. He had no place to go, for the time being.
"The bluest eyes in Texas are haunting me tonight. Like the stars that fill the midnight sky, his memory fill my mind.
Where did I go wrong? Did I wait too long?"
Goodnight. Good day.
I don't remember which one....