I've got to a point where my realization becoming decay of 'you'll change" fruit. Dreaming, you changed for me, always became a nightmare haunting in the daylight too. But still, I've loved you and still love you. And I hate this, even though the truth is still hitting me like a beautiful meteorite. I've given you my everything and I still wish you didn't meet me. Been years. My thoughts of you became like semi-dried leaves. Breaking my heart into pieces as well as holding onto our past.