Even though you have you everything to lose,
I have this belief that you'll gladly give it up if it appears to be worth while.
I might be just be rambling on and on again about my fears and how there has to be something to this that's just not meant to last.
I try and starve them but they feed off my thoughts...
The ones you daily make me believe are false.

You think I get off at practically begging for your attention.
Have you ever thought maybe, if you listened and tried to understand, you'd see a change?
Wanting and being wanted goes both ways.
Otherwise there's always one of the two that's simply not getting enough to make them feel whole but enough to make them starve and come back for more.
I don't want that.
I want it to be equal.
I never want to question that you love me or find me attractive all because you limit your time, affection and attention.
You have your way of showing it, as do I.
But isn't the goal to pay attention and learn how someone needs to be wanted and needed and vice versa?
Wouldn't it equal out then?

You know it's terrible, I can see your effort and trying your hardest to earn what it is you lost.
You're working backwards.
Doing the right thing in a mix of wrong choices.
When will you learn?
Your true colors are shining through, I refuse to let them be tainted by irrelevant information I already came to know.  
And this time, I refuse to believe that good could live inside of you.
You're not capable to handle the responsibility of being a host of something you dare to lose.

Familiar places making memories arise inside my mind.
I push them back, but I can still see you standing there.
With not much to say but the gears turning clear as day.
Not knowing the right things to say but what should be said.
Your words linger around me, as if their hanuting me.
Familiar places making memories arise inside my mind.
Why can't you disappear?
Can't you see that I didn't ask for this..?
I didn't ask for help.
I didn't ask you to make everything that's blurry, clear as the ***** beside me.
Clarity.
Who needs it in a place that's so carefully tainted.

I really shouldn't get my hopes up.
It never ends well.
I should know better by now.
This is just a story written and I'm just living in it.
With some scene cut and a few lines here and there mixed up.
A happy ending doesn't exist, only lessones learned.
Look out for chapter two.
This script could go forever if I allowed it to.
An end is the only way for a new beginning,
Sometimes the plot gives you a way to look back and give an idea to where your heading.

What's wrong with me?
I'm one of thousands that think this everyday.
**** it's cliche.
To feel this way.
Knowing it's not just me.
Knowing no one will begin to understand
Listing the symptoms, getting close,
to being diagnosed.
The right amount of dosage won't change a thing.
"Give it a chance," they beg,
"Give it time. You'll see a difference.
You'll feel better."
Who are you to tell me what I should feel?
Who are you, to promise such a slim possibility?
The outcome is inevitable.
Live inside my mind for a day.
Then maybe you'll see.

He said he'll miss her,
The way she breathes life into everything around her.
Those eyes, mocking the color of the ground he walks on.
A daily reminder.
He says he'll miss her.

Living day by day.
Through all the same motions.
Her scent lingering around him,
How will he get by,
Without that daily pick-me-up
Always provided, never taking the time to realize it.

He says he'll miss her,
As he watched her walk out the door,
No longer an invitation to go after her.
Mind made up. She's never coming back.
As accepting as it was,
in the heat of the moment.
Regret beginning to eat him whole.
Filling him to the core as his heart goes cold.

What have we learned from this?
He says he'll miss her,
The empty place in his heart where she used to be.
A place that was once home.
He said he'll miss her,
We know better.