I've been counting ways that I could justify the choices I've made that led us here today. And I've been counting on you to do the same thing, but I set my expectations far too high, like always. And it's funny how we make ourselves believe that this is happiness; we're trapped inside our minds and in your basement on separate ends of a couch. I'm trying so hard, And that's the problem. I can't shake this feeling in my bones that you're just the girl who's too scared to let this go, and I'm just the boy who, no matter what, can't seem to stay content for more than an hour or so. I would spend a lifetime searching for the words to say, if it meant that this feeling in my gut would go away. I'm sick of wishing that I could have a change of heart, and running away just to crawl back to the start. I can't shake this feeling in my bones, that you're just the girl who's too scared to let this go, and I'm just the boy who, no matter what, no matter fucking what, can't seem to stay content. I guess I'm better off alone. And in the end, it doesn't even matter who you are, it just matters who I'm not.
