Our Song
October 6, 2007
Perhaps this is no one-sided disappointment.
What an awful birthday gift it would be. I’m sorry, my love. For…this self destructive, lazy, apathetic hunk of bullshit that is my own self.
You have the right to hate it.
It’s too unfortunate that I love you so.
It’s too unfortune that our song is just your song played in such a way that, if you knew, you’d want to punch my face. Or, at least, you’d sigh impatiently and think “she’s just like the rest.” and maybe I am.
Maybe I try too hard. Maybe I don’t try hard enough.
Maybe I love you
And maybe I’m just insane.
I want one.
So that I could be two.
But two can be as bad as one; it’s the loneliest number since the number one.
