I just stepped on a plane, my bags on the shelf
I find my seat in the middle and plan to keep to myself
The pilot comes on, says: "there's been a delay"
and I sigh, buckle up, and prepare for the wait
There's a middle aged woman on my right by the window
no ring on her finger, maybe divorced or widow?
She's drafting an email and from where I am seated
I can side-eye that shit, so of course I'm gon' read it.

it said:

Dear McCracken... this is already great
dude's got a pen pal and a killer last name
she opens with an inside joke and she's hoping
to set a casual tone, her words carefully chosen
she was sure that her week spent in Houston would drag
but then a face from her past quickly changed all of that
the trip was for business, she's used to the travel
but this time she's not ready to head back to Seattle

Dear McCracken, I'd rather be off this plane
I can't admit the half of it that I want to say
Do I pretend, do I push you away?
I'm jet-laggin mcCracken and I'll give you, I'll give you your space

I can tell by the abuse of the backspace key
there's a heart balanced on how her words are perceived
she's retyped that fourth paragraph four times
swinging the tone back and forth until she's so satisfied
that he knows that even though their paths have diverged
there's an air of regret but not enough to reverse
and I am stunned, there I sit, completely convinced
that once you grow old you stop dealing with this
the uncertain, the hurtin', the feelin like dirt when
things don't work out by the fall of the curtain
she hits send, powers off, and we're ready to go
and I am sad for the passion that McCracken, he might never know

Dear McCracken, I'd rather be off this plane
I can't admit the half of it that I want to say
Do I pretend, do I push you away?
I'm jet-laggin mcCracken and I'll give you, I'll give you your space

Dear McCracken, I'm keepin this on my chest
I've said a lot of things but none of them what I meant
Do I pretend, do I try to forget?
I'm jet-laggin mcCracken and I wish you, I wish you the best

and I thought, I thought by that age
our broken hearts had seen their worst
and I thought that kind of heartache
was meant for the young but we're never too old to hurt

and I thought, I thought by that age
our broken hearts had seen their worst
and I thought that kind of heartache
was meant for the young but we're never too old to hurt

I just stepped off a plane, I've got one regret
I know I'll never get closure or ever see how it ends
I won't know his answer, what happens between them
why she kept her cards so close even she couldn't see them
what gave her such pause when she so clearly wanted
to tell you all the emotions she tried so hard to bottle
and I'll never know why she kept the honest truth from you
but Oh Dear McCracken... in the rough draft...

in the rough draft...

In the Rough Draft She Loved You.