It started scrawled on scraps of paper. Rough. Unfinished. I couldn't bring myself to complete it alone, have a song devoid of his touch - deficient. His genius absent.

But it tore at me. Overriding my thoughts, dodging my distractions, infiltrating my dreams, not allowing me to rest until I wrote it. I justified it's imperfection to myself countless times: 'the message is more important than the means' I would say, again and again.

Somehow I finished it. A simple melody. Plain. Plaintive. Nowhere near anything he'd write. No, I could never achieve that. That was like grasping at stars, reaching for the moon - impossible.

Needless to say, I tore it to pieces. Lacking his golden touch - I decided it was awful. Ugly. No sense, no style, no skill. Schmaltzy. Too personal. Not personal enough. Too ambiguous. Not ambiguous enough. I'm used to laying myself bare in a song, revealing just enough to keep them guessing. But not to him. Not to the one who knew me so much better than all of them.

I hated it. I despised it. And then I became obsessed with it.

No, I wasn't satisfied with it living on paper, I had to record it. That was an absolute nightmare. I would've played the guitar myself if I knew how, but due to my musical illiteracy I had to find another guitarist. The poor guy didn't know what hit him, didn't stand a chance - how could he ever measure up?

And the vocals... my god the vocals. Patched together from a thousand takes to cut around my uncontrollable bouts of sobbing. I couldn't sing it straight through even once.

With the track mixed and mastered I was even more critical. I deemed the final product to be woeful. A seething mass of flaws that just didn't measure up.

//The message, Darren, the message.//

//The message before the means.//

I told myself it didn't matter that it was woeful. I wanted it that way. I wanted him to see how useless I'd become without him.

I insisted it be on the album. Every album. Every release, every version, every country. I demanded a significant place in the tracklisting - first song. And although management fought me every step of the way, forcing me to use every tantrum and diva-esque maneuver I knew - I insisted it be the first single. My very first solo single.

"It's not catchy enough." They argued. "Too downbeat." "Too depressing." They wanted another I Want You, another Truly, Madly Deeply. Something optimistic and radio-friendly. But I don't play those tunes anymore.

I defied them all, pitching a hissy fit that would've made Bette proud. The poor suckers had no choice.

"I want it to be number one." I told them. "I want you to publicise the fuck out of it." I wanted to - had to - make sure he heard it.

He had to hear it.

He had to hear my message.

Worldwide release. Copies sold fast. //He has to hear it.//

Number one in the Aria chart - three weeks and holding. //He must have heard it.//

Number one on the Billboard charts in the US - the elusive, difficult number one. //Surely he's heard it.//

Highest rotation song of the year - not achieved since Truly, Madly, Deeply - multiple number ones worldwide, performed live on Letterman, O'Donnell, O'Brien, Rove, GNW, MTV, BBC, NBC, still requested on radio stations after months of play, people are getting sick of hearing the bloody song - how could he *not* have heard it? How could anyone *not* have heard it?

//He must've heard it. He must've.//

But if he has...

Why hasn't he called?

"You don’t know what it does to me

This distance in between...

You told me once that you loved me

Was it all a lie?

Would you walk with me if I asked you?

Would you take me to your home?

Would you lay me down and love me?

I never had the chance to tell you how I feel

Fallen hearts miss so much

This distance it’s growing...

I made promises I have to keep

Lies I always have to live

When all I need is to see you again

You can make my world whole

Come and visit me one day

And I’ll tell you the truth

We can drink...hmm...Corona’s on the balcony

And laugh at the passing world

I don’t know why you won’t see me

And I know what I didn’t do...

Would you still love me?

Would you care if I went away?

Would you live for me?

‘Cause I know I’d die just for the chance

To see you again

But...but you almost did...

You’re where I wanna be

But I don’t know how to get there

All I need is to see you again

And then I’ll tell you the truth...

The truth...

I love you..."

Lyrics and inspiration by Le Antlered One