It’s funny how crazy creeps up on you and knocks right on your front door. The over-thinking, over-analyzing, reading into everything, grasps right a hold of your collar with two fists and wont let go.
I never wanted to be this way. I never used to be this way. Can’t I just be like everybody else? Self sufficient with their heads on straight. Go about my daily life and when someone walks out of it I find a way to carry on. I swear I had that until you.
I knew every trick and I played by every rule. I got close and yeah sure I got hurt, but I survived it. Maybe I didn’t survive it as well as everybody else, but I never knew what it felt like to be drowning until you.
The problem with love like that is it leaves a mark on you. A big, ugly, nasty scar right across your chest. I kept opening that wound over and over and over again. I am not sure if it’s ever going to fade.
Anyone who ever tries to get close to me can’t deal with the past. Not because they know how deeply I felt for you but because I’ve changed.
I’m tired. I don’t want to play by the rules. I think because everything I had left I gave to you, and you made sure to destroy me. You didn’t want me but you wanted to make sure no one else would want me either.
So you smashed every good thing I ever thought about myself. “No one is ever going to want to be with you, not the way you are.” So far it’s been true. That is what is the worst, is that your right.
Anyone I try to let close to me, I end up sabotaging. I am so terrified that they will walk away, that I ruin it. My head starts spinning and no one can make me feel like they are here to stay. And if it’s not the walking away, it’s that I think all they see in me is what you saw in me..
A pretty face to fill your empty nights and fake your feelings. I am something on the outside but I am nothing within.
You said I used to think too much. My imagination used to run wild. You hated that.
So now I am stuck here. Just me, myself, and crazy. Ironic the only person who can make it leave is me, I have to believe in myself again, where do I even start.