opposite ends, the ifs and the certain
The certain~
I HATE you.
so much.
sometimes.
And the reason why I hate you sooooooo much sometimes is because I love you so much all the time.
stupid and sentimental, I know, but none the less true.
you have hurt me, and I know I've hurt you, but it's been, what, two and a half years since the shit hit the fan? since I fucking lived and breathed you because I thought that was what you needed, because I thought that would help you, and all I wanted to do in the world was to help you and make it all better. And have you back.
and you still don't get it. two and a half years and I still haven't fully recovered. I have scars that will never fully heal, I will have trouble trusting, I will have trouble being close and letting anyone in ever, ever, again because of you YOU LITTLE SHIT and you still have no idea. I cringe at the thought of you, I cringe at your number on the screen, I cringe to see you and still have you act that way, still have you there not having learned ONE GODDAM THING, still have you looking at me condescending, with all your insecurities, questioning whether or not I love you, questioning my devotion, questioning my friendship
BITCH! un holy terror of a bitch! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH FOR YOU?
there are still a handful of people out there, most of them girls, all of whom should GODDAM know better who need to stop, just FUCKING STOP taking advantage of me, and right now, jobless, stressed, and with out support from a few very important people, I am DONE being nice. I am not sorry to ruin your happy occasion, your big news, your holiday, your break, your boyfriend, your job, your career, your hopes and dreams, I will tell you, to your face, and with out a smile on, that you need to fucking check yourself.
and now that that's over
the ifs~
If I thought you, wiser and older, would take a chance on me,
could ever love me . . . .
If a country full of barriers could be blown apart . . .
If the idea, the very thought, weren't laughable . . .
If I could be the girl you needed, if I could be dependable, if I could be sure that I wouldn't fuck it up, get weirded out and fuck it up . . .
If cupid and casaandra could get together, weave their wares, and assure me that I would never hurt you . . .
I would be madly in love with you
I would give you my puppy eyes
I would stop licking my lips
I would stand up straight
hold your cheek in my hand
and speak clear voiced
for once
I would give up the smoke
the nicotine
maybe even the drink
(but the diet coke I will always keep, I think)
I would flex my muscles
I would feel the energy in my skin
and use it, weilding my power,
to bend the world,
and make you happy again
I HATE you.
so much.
sometimes.
And the reason why I hate you sooooooo much sometimes is because I love you so much all the time.
stupid and sentimental, I know, but none the less true.
you have hurt me, and I know I've hurt you, but it's been, what, two and a half years since the shit hit the fan? since I fucking lived and breathed you because I thought that was what you needed, because I thought that would help you, and all I wanted to do in the world was to help you and make it all better. And have you back.
and you still don't get it. two and a half years and I still haven't fully recovered. I have scars that will never fully heal, I will have trouble trusting, I will have trouble being close and letting anyone in ever, ever, again because of you YOU LITTLE SHIT and you still have no idea. I cringe at the thought of you, I cringe at your number on the screen, I cringe to see you and still have you act that way, still have you there not having learned ONE GODDAM THING, still have you looking at me condescending, with all your insecurities, questioning whether or not I love you, questioning my devotion, questioning my friendship
BITCH! un holy terror of a bitch! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH FOR YOU?
there are still a handful of people out there, most of them girls, all of whom should GODDAM know better who need to stop, just FUCKING STOP taking advantage of me, and right now, jobless, stressed, and with out support from a few very important people, I am DONE being nice. I am not sorry to ruin your happy occasion, your big news, your holiday, your break, your boyfriend, your job, your career, your hopes and dreams, I will tell you, to your face, and with out a smile on, that you need to fucking check yourself.
and now that that's over
the ifs~
If I thought you, wiser and older, would take a chance on me,
could ever love me . . . .
If a country full of barriers could be blown apart . . .
If the idea, the very thought, weren't laughable . . .
If I could be the girl you needed, if I could be dependable, if I could be sure that I wouldn't fuck it up, get weirded out and fuck it up . . .
If cupid and casaandra could get together, weave their wares, and assure me that I would never hurt you . . .
I would be madly in love with you
I would give you my puppy eyes
I would stop licking my lips
I would stand up straight
hold your cheek in my hand
and speak clear voiced
for once
I would give up the smoke
the nicotine
maybe even the drink
(but the diet coke I will always keep, I think)
I would flex my muscles
I would feel the energy in my skin
and use it, weilding my power,
to bend the world,
and make you happy again