Here I am. Just me. Alone again. What am I doing? I'm slowly killing myself, that's what. For a guy who finds it completely unbearable to be alone, I startlingly push you all away. Why can't I leave well enough alone?
I'm not the person I could be. I'm not the friend to you all that I should be. I'm not the man I want to be. So what am I?
I'm a collection of mistakes. I'm failure personified. I'm a fool playing at life. I'm broken and alone, reaching out to anyone and everyone who so much as smiles at me. But none of you have the time or patience to deal with me. I'm too much to deal with. My emotions are a roller coaster. My sensitivity is turned up to 11. My tears flow far to readily. I'm broken and alone and I have nowhere to cast any of the blame but upon myself.
I wish I could change, but I know that's impossible. I've been in this same spot for years. I've hurt so many loved ones, one of them more precious than anything or anyone I could ever imagine. If I could do that to her, what is stopping me from doing it to all of you?
Nothing.
As time approaches infinity, I approach the ability to be a friend.
