I tell myself every night that I'm the one you want

You hold my hand in public and introduce me to all of your friends

So I'm clearly the one you flaunt

You told me I am so much better than she ever was to you

So why is she still apart of the conversation?

You say I'm your first choice so why do I feel like a silver medal?

Maybe we should just stop talking, we're better at that

But deep down I wish we weren't