I'm not in it to win it, I'm in it for you

I can feel your warmth even over 2,048 miles.

There was the same time
Every day
That the sun came
To rest on the table,
Warming the clear glass,
Coating its wood surface.
One day
I was so sick of this routine
Seeing the same thing
Every day,
So I scratched the glass,
And it made a harsh noise
I swear, I swear.
It echoed with your voice
Still trapped in the room,
Isolated
From everything except
My presence,
Not willing to go anywhere.
Now your voice is gone
But the scratch lingers.