Except you, except me

It isn't funny,
That I can hear your footsteps,
in the pitter-patter of rain.

It isn't comforting,
To find you staring back at me,
when I look into the mirror.

It isn't the same,
Them playing songs that you love,
when I switch the radio on.

It isn't fair
To know that you are around,
but not with me.

It isn't how it should be,
Because nothing seems to have changed,
Except you, except me.