Who could call my name without regretting,
Who could promise to never destroy me.


Of course, it is going to end. Of course, it's three and a half.
It always stops at two and a half, three and a half, five and then seven.

I feel it. I know you won't leave, but I know this too, I will drive you away, unknowingly, I don't even like talking to you anymore, knowing fully well, how much you dislike me, already. You said I lied, assuming, I did, I'd just say, I did not lie at the expense of anyone, I never do that.

You say, I know that you know, that I feel you don't care for me enough.
Yes, I've ALWAYS felt that.
You say, that's for me to know, and you to show.

But when have you showed it, really ? I have never felt you love or care for me, not one bit. What's the point in me knowing it, when I've never felt it, at all. The only time I actually felt something, was the time, there wasn't love, there was something else.

Help me get over this. Don't just say that you are there for me, I know damn right you are there, I need you to drag me out of it, drag me out of my personal hell. Can you ?

You say, I'm being extremely mean, perhaps I am, but I am not aware of that, talk to me, point it out.
You say, I've changed, but I have not. I care for you all the same, and I am never mean to you, I'd die than be mean to you. If I have changed, show me two things, and in turn, I will show seven more and prove you wrong.

You say, I need to take time off. Maybe, I need to. Perhaps.
So, I'm off for a while. You'll know where to find me, you always do.

You are the only person, I've met in this life, who feels a lot like me. Yet, I wish, we had talked. I wish you had let me talk, and not hang up the phone. I wish, you were there when I had cried and not said, 'Oh please, don't start crying, now.'

I miss your mails. You should write to me, sometimes. Maybe ?

I really need to go.

And you don't know everything. How I wish.