In the beginning we’re always perfect, because I honestly have no feelings. I’m always too smart to let them surface, because I know yours will start peeling. And I have this set of rules and guidelines that I swear I won’t stop following. It’s only a matter of time before the weight is too heavy and I am Staling. Two types of lovers in this life, One who sees all the struggle in my eyes. Tries and tries and tries and doesn’t lie, but it’s only a matter of time before she bores me half to death and I have to leave before I start to die. The other kind, so stuck in her eyes. Pounces on the first sign of weakness. She’ll start to question what she sees in this, so I’ll stop letting her breathe unless..despite all of my bitter weakness, she still loves me like we just met. It’s a silly display of childish games. Doesn’t make any fucking sense to me, why as being as nice as I can be always ends up with me being lonely. I finally realized to be happy with what I have. I always have to settle for something less, because I can’t be underneath her again.
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