You could call me fragile,
But...
Not in the way you'd assume.
I could walk away,
I could let you go,
I could fall out of love
and despite all of the above...
What really eats me alive
is all of my time
and energy,
wasted potential.
A project left unfinished...
A flame smothered to it's inevitable death.
It's the mary-go-round,
it's the never being surprised anymore,
it's being able to guess what's about to happen
and unfortunately being right...
Don't let me be your lesson,
before the next one.
Don't be the perfect guy for her
after being the worst to me.
I'm always the one before the one.
I want to be happy with you,
please don't make me do it alone.