Second guessing myself and mostly everything else,
Tracing back my path I took from living in hell.
Did I take the right road?
Or did I fall astray?
Am I content with being alone
Almost every other day?

Someday I'll find you,
And you'll stop hiding.
Most times, I miss you.
I always had a bad sense of timing

I don't want this to be goodbye
I really don't.