A speaker is stuck waiting for an ex to return, and clings to a familiar saying, "If it's meant to be, it will be," as if it were a guarantee. The poem is plain and almost conversational, and that simplicity makes the hurt feel real. The speaker admits that seeing the person every week with a different girl makes them sad, and that sometimes they cry. Nothing is dressed up.
What stands out is the gap between what the speaker sees and what they choose to believe. The evidence points one way, yet the speaker keeps repeating the phrase, perhaps because it is easier than letting go. The repeated lines "So I sit / And wait" frame the poem like a loop, and the ending barely differs from the beginning. Nothing changes, which suggests the speaker is stuck. The mood is quiet, sad, and hopeful in a fragile, slightly stubborn way.