Late at night, I often wonder about all the 'what ifs' and all the 'what could've been'
It hurts, honestly, to think about such things since I know they have little to no chance of being the 'what is'
I wonder if we chose another path, will we still end up the same way?
I hated myself for not noticing how you were doing, for patiently waiting for you to come speak when all you wanted was someone to be by your side. I hated myself for pressuring you, for putting you in a situation where you are forced to tell me what's going on. It shouldn't be like that. Not at all. Because the moment I became impatient was the same moment you hated yourself.
And now, it's gone
We're done, we're over
And I still have hope
That when everything's fine,
We'll start over
That idea sucks,
Unreal,
A product of my creative imagination
If only we took another path...
