I forgot what you looked like when you were dancing.
I guess it just took a good P!nk song to get you moving in rhythm with the world again.
I guess I was just missing out on that.
What about all the times you said you had the answers?
I never wanted to be the world dictionary or encyclopedia, but I guess I took it too far when I said I was right.
Only now can I see that I can't even fight for my opinion even if I'm right.
What about all the broken happy ever afters?
I honestly thought this as going to be my big story.
that we were that story waiting to be told to anyone.
But I shouldn't write for someone who didn't approve their part of the story.
What about all the plans that ended in disaster?
You mean me?
Because I'm pretty sure I was your worst mistake.
What about love? What about trust?
If you think I would know anything about either of those subjects.
If you were to think me a fool...
You would be correct.
So in the end, I can't fight anything with pure willpower from here.
I'm still not sure if I should bother wishing you good luck.
Since you've been gone for awhile.
What about us?
Are still in a relationship.
I have never been in one.
You... are travelling to Costa Rica.
I went to France a million years ago.
Are still subscribed to my YouTube channel.
And I have no idea why.
For all I know, you're only subscribed because you don't go on YouTube all that often...
Therefore... you've forgotten.
I don't blame you.
I'd like to forget me too.
I... am lonely.
You.. not so much or at least it seems that way..
I... am blind to my own pain.
You... are probably the same way.
You... still keep certain people as friends on social media despite how things ended.
I... don't even have Facebook.
Or anything that would make me any "Friend" of yours.
You have no idea what's happened to me.
And vice versa.
You... have changed your hair for the hundredth time.
I have cut my hair for the first time in months.
I... have no idea what I'm doing.
And you are going to be set to be a history buff.
Funny thing... history huh?
How you will go on to study world history.
While I fall apart over our history.
What a mystery, the inconsistency of our lives right?
Because we weren't supposed to be friends.
I was never supposed to send you songs.
I haven't in 7 months give or take.
I cannot bare the weight of an unwanted conversation.
I have been told not to worry about hurting people.
But I don't worry about things I have already done.
So congratulations, you got out while you could.
And I deserve it.
On any other day, I would asked you to be alone with me.
I'll just be here.
I wish we could talk about something else...
I'm no longer one of your favourite artists.
I'm glad we still have something in common.
I've always said that I wouldn't mind being in a coma.
Because the world wouldn't have to worry about me so much.
Now truthfully, most of the world has no idea who I am, so the world doesn't have much of a reason to worry, but still...
The small percentage of people who do know me, would be so worried all the time.
I would always be in one place.
I would always stay in the same position, and have the same reaction to everything.
Good news, bad news, no news at all.
A coma for me is just a cover up.
I wouldn't want this to serve as an excuse for someone to visit me out of guilt.
And I would be able to respond if they told me they were sorry.
It kills me to know, that beyond being a limp body, I'm also a lost soul.
But even as I am here now, awake.
I feel closer to dead than anyone can ever know.
Only because I finally lost it.
And by "it" I only mean... me?
Like I was put on this planet just to hurt people, and I sure did...
I sure... did.
Of having people around, but still feeling like the most truthful thing to say is "I have no one left".
I can say it, and it still feels true.
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
So maybe people would finally feel guilty for leaving me if they just saw me close to "drifting to sleep".
Breathing harder, and feeling my T-shirt suffocating me.
And then feeling the vice grip of my sins wrap around my neck.
And I can't take it any more.
Sounds too biblical and cliché right?
I'm tired of fighting to live well.
Let me sleep.
Or induce a coma.
And put this whole thing to rest.
Living through my tragic life, and then talking about it to the point where I can't even defend myself.
It's killing me.
There's no point to standing up for yourself.
And no point in arguing ever if you're right.
Living my life, and then being sad about it.
Telling people who can't help me.
It's like being on a treadmill.
It's exhausting without going anywhere.
I've been told that people have forgotten what happened.
I've been told that word got around.
I've been told that hatred still exists here.
And you tell me not to be guilty.
But I look at them...
And feel nothing but the pain I cause them.
I know I'm no good.
I cannot believe that you say I'm a good person.
When seeing them does nothing but remind me of how I ruined it all.