I'm not enough.
I'm not super-human, not a hero either. I'm just me. Me. And what I am might not be what you need.
But I'll try.
I can promise you as much. I can try to be what you need and I can do it for the rest of my life. If I could just nearly be what you need, what he was, it'll be enough. It has to be enough because I'm not the perfect piece, I'm misshaped and confused and so madly in love with you.
Yet I'm not him.
I'll never be.
You loved him. And part of you, the one he took, always will. I can only hope the small part left can learn not to long after the one missing. I can only hope it'll learn to move on and someday - perhaps who knows? will notice me.
Sometimes I just
I just want to be everything to you.
People don't call me a fool for no reason, you know? Though I prefer to think of myself as an idealist and show them wrong. I know... I know they're wrong. I can be everything to somebody else; I can fulfil my lover's every need and protect them.
Maybe they just think of me as a fool because of you.
The broken-hearted girl.
The girl that missed love before she could understand it; but that's exactly what they don't understand about you, how can someone miss love? Well
I don't know either. All I know is with time I fell in love with you and you're in love with what you miss and it just
It sucks, you know?
To want to be the one who protects you and is everything to you, the one who sees you happy
and not being able to do it. It really sucks. Even worse - I can't explain it without tripping on clichés and all the movie-like cheesiness while in all honesty, it's partially true.
Ask how many times I tried letting go of you.
Two hundred and three times.
Yeah, I'm counting them. By now you'd think I'd have some practice and could break free of this addiction, if you did think that you're wrong. Time and practice don't make it easier if not, they just make it worst. It's as if you've got some long distance remote control over me and it's annoying.
I hate that the first person I run to show my latest conquest is you.
I hate that the first person I tell about my problems is you.
I love that you praise me.
I love when you comfort me.
I'm hopeless, really. I love you, broken-hearted girl. You make it all more difficult to stop doing it when you're so nice to me, you keep me by your side and you're completely oblivious of what you're doing. You drive me crazy!
I love you.