Never did I realize how blind I have been.
That the look you gave her is the look I always wanted from you.

I created a fog, a dark haze, and it clouded my better judgment.
I blinded myself from reality.
I created a dream, this beautiful dream where you and I could be.
and I am now waking up to my nightmare.
Still half asleep, avoiding the inevitable.
Half of my subconscious continues to sleep,
continues to live in denial while the rest move on without me.

Because I remember finding you talking to her.
You say you do not care, but I would do that for you.
And I remember the words you muttered under your breath,
hostile towards her new love that is not you anymore.
You say it does not matter, but those are words I would speak for you.
And as time progresses, the path seems to get clearer.
I find the strength I let go of, thinking that being weak and vulnerable would be alright.
But it never was okay.

To be blind again is all I long for. How weak does that make me?
Seeing clearly means seeing pain in the beauty that stood before the haze.
Seeing clearly means waking up from my dream,
and living in this nightmare.
Where I am the last one you will see.

And by then it will be too late.
It will be too late.