Why are you playing games with me? Why are you teasing me with love and chocolate and sweet wine? Why are you promising me tomorrow will be better? Why? Why are you so cruel to me?
I am tired. I am exhausted by trying, on my own, entirely and completely on my own, to be with you. I am bored and frustrated by your careless mistakes that break my heart. I am angry on your refusal to understand.
I am stupid. Well, no, naive is the right word for it. I was naive to believe that things are going to improve. That if I show you how special you are, and how wonderful life can be, you will see it, and you will embrace it, and me, and you will fight for it. I was naive, 'cause you didn't. You didn't believe. You didn't care. You just took what was good and happy about it, like it was rightfully yours, and left.
You said you will be back tomorrow.
So I waited. Tomorrow came, and you were not there. Then the night came, an you were still not there. So I drank coffees after coffees, I cried, I shouted, I cut, I blamed, I cooked, I stuffed myself ... I waited. You didn't come. Next morning I was sore. And shivering from the cold and from the fears and from the loneliness. I was sick of your promises, I was deadly ill of hope.
Why? Why don't you just admit we lost? Why don't you just admit we miserably failed? Is it just because it's your blame to bear? Give it to me... just say I did not love you enough, or I had no respect for you, or just I was not able to make it work. But stop playing games. Please. Don't keep me prisoner of your ego and your panic attacks. Don't keep me bound to your image when you are long long gone. Just look at you. And look at me. And understand what's going on: we lost. We lost something more precious than life itself. I died again, waiting for you an your promised love. And you just didn't come. Like you said you will.
It's over, isn't it? I am no longer the joy of your life, I am the trouble at the other end of the phone call. I am the person that makes you feel uncomfortably responsible. Are you waiting for me to say "good bye"? 'cause I won't do it. No. You made the mess, you clean it up. You come to me and tell me how you failed, you come to me to tell me how lost and terribly alone you feel, you see me crying till your heart breaks. You see the pain and agony you caused me. And then, you have the courage to break it off, I won't do this for you. Nope. You are the one that broke it, you make it right. You cry and ask for apologies. You go home thinking everyday how close those cuts on my wrists are to the veins ... you beg every day to see my name somewhere to know I'm still alive. That's the only thing I'm not gonna do for you. Not again. I will not protect you from seeing how much damage and pain you have given me. I want you to see it all, To feel it all. Maybe then you'll stop playing games.
I'm here. Still waiting. It's your turn.
I am tired. I am exhausted by trying, on my own, entirely and completely on my own, to be with you. I am bored and frustrated by your careless mistakes that break my heart. I am angry on your refusal to understand.
I am stupid. Well, no, naive is the right word for it. I was naive to believe that things are going to improve. That if I show you how special you are, and how wonderful life can be, you will see it, and you will embrace it, and me, and you will fight for it. I was naive, 'cause you didn't. You didn't believe. You didn't care. You just took what was good and happy about it, like it was rightfully yours, and left.
You said you will be back tomorrow.
So I waited. Tomorrow came, and you were not there. Then the night came, an you were still not there. So I drank coffees after coffees, I cried, I shouted, I cut, I blamed, I cooked, I stuffed myself ... I waited. You didn't come. Next morning I was sore. And shivering from the cold and from the fears and from the loneliness. I was sick of your promises, I was deadly ill of hope.
Why? Why don't you just admit we lost? Why don't you just admit we miserably failed? Is it just because it's your blame to bear? Give it to me... just say I did not love you enough, or I had no respect for you, or just I was not able to make it work. But stop playing games. Please. Don't keep me prisoner of your ego and your panic attacks. Don't keep me bound to your image when you are long long gone. Just look at you. And look at me. And understand what's going on: we lost. We lost something more precious than life itself. I died again, waiting for you an your promised love. And you just didn't come. Like you said you will.
It's over, isn't it? I am no longer the joy of your life, I am the trouble at the other end of the phone call. I am the person that makes you feel uncomfortably responsible. Are you waiting for me to say "good bye"? 'cause I won't do it. No. You made the mess, you clean it up. You come to me and tell me how you failed, you come to me to tell me how lost and terribly alone you feel, you see me crying till your heart breaks. You see the pain and agony you caused me. And then, you have the courage to break it off, I won't do this for you. Nope. You are the one that broke it, you make it right. You cry and ask for apologies. You go home thinking everyday how close those cuts on my wrists are to the veins ... you beg every day to see my name somewhere to know I'm still alive. That's the only thing I'm not gonna do for you. Not again. I will not protect you from seeing how much damage and pain you have given me. I want you to see it all, To feel it all. Maybe then you'll stop playing games.
I'm here. Still waiting. It's your turn.
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