Where is my head?
This morning I got a text message from butterfly. That she was hoping my first exam went well, that she was hoping I was doing okay. I was just lying in bed reading, after a horrible lunch with my extended family ten minutes after I woke up, and as soon as I read her words, what did I do? I got up, turned on the computer and sat here hoping that she'd be online.
Where is my head? Where are my bones? Why are my days so far from home?
I wasn't sure whether or not I should answer, but as you can guess, I did. Last night while trying to drink my thoughts away with my friends, I decided not to text her, because I didn't want to talk to her anymore, didn't want to be what she wants me to be after our exams. And then she's kind of talking to me again and I jump as soon as she says the word. I don't know what the hell's wrong with me.
Where is my head? Where are my bones? Can you save me from myself?
We talked via sms for some time, then she told me, she was anxiously waiting for exams to be over for both of us, so we could talk again. She told me, she couldn't do it any earlier. And I didn't answer after that. She sounded like the small window I was allowed in was closed again after that message.
We change by the speed of the choices that we make. And the barriers are all self-made - that's so retrograde...
I don't know what's wrong with me. So much happened, we haven't seen each other in... forever. I don't really have anything to do with her. I'm no fucking part of her life and still... I just can't let go of her. Again and again I decide that I want to stop all this, but in the end I jump up at the chance to talk to her, to know that for this short time, I'm more important than anyone else to her.
I want to be for you, what I've never had.
I'm not in love with her, I don't love her, I don't even like her. And I just can't let go.
Confusion we import, look what we have become.
And that best friend of her's? I still can't imagine butterfly telling her everything after the exams. She promised. And even though I don't think we could still work out, I want to know whether I've ever been important enough. I haven't been until now, she never loved me as much as she loves that whore. Maybe I'll be around to have her tell me that she still won't come clean and maybe then I'll have the guts to tell her to go to hell.