I'm pretty sure I'm trying. I'm giving it my all. I'm trying to stay cool. I'm keeping quiet, I'm speaking up. But it's all wrong. I'm all wrong. I don't know what I'm saying, I don't remember what I'm fighting for. I don't know what I want. I'm doing all theses things, I'm moving forward, I'm making decisions, and for what? I come home, lay down, and feel nothing. It's a whole different feeling. The same one I felt before, but different. It's the numbness, but softer. Deeper. Not as physical, but all kinds of emotional, mental numbness. We have problems and we talk about them, we cry and scream about them. We try to change them, to get over them, to get over him. And we think we do, we trick ourselves into thinking we're moving on, but then you see him, and it all comes rushing back in. I'm sitting here waiting, patiently waiting. Is he going to call? Is he going to show? I'm going out, being proactive, being assertive. Is he going to notice? Is he going to approach me? And nothing. No. He didn't. He won't. He sees you. They see you. And they run. I'm tired of running. And I'm tired of people running from me. I'm doing my best. I'm pretty sure I'm trying. I'm keeping my cool. And nothing is changing.
Perhaps it's a matter of principle. It's a matter of patience. I took out the piercing. I make up the credit. I walked across the stage and shook their hands. But it's not enough. It's not okay, it's not over. I'm sitting here taking the beating. Learning my place. But it's not enough. My place is never put. My lesson never learned. Is this my fault? Did I do something wrong? No one will tell me. What am I supposed to do? There aren't instructions. I'm making it up as I go. But everyone is telling me that's wrong. I'm tired. I'm burned out. I can't be lit again. That's not an expression. That's not a dramatization. It's me. And that's all there is.
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