If you could only see what love has made of me, then I'd no longer be the difficult kind.
And you would know what's in this heart.
My friends Aaron and Reed were in my room for a little bit last night. Aaron left a note on my door asking whether he left his wallet in here or not. I've been in a weird-ass, emotional, yet detached mood all day, and I looked at the note, walked in, stood in the middle of my room repeating the word "wallet" with some confusion. And there it hit me, in my dreamlike state, like a million bricks, the memory of the wallet. The only wallet I remembered in my file of memories was a brown wallet in the backseat of my car, and I remembered the feeling of wanting to throw that brown wallet out of the window of my car the instant I saw it, I remembered not wanting to touch it, this all happening over the course of about four seconds. Just as I remembered all this I hit the floor and there I crumpled.
Second time I've hit the floor with strong emotions today. First time was when I was listening to "Good Die Young" and then it was unbearable, suddenly, but no tears came in my hysteria.
No tears this time, either, and I feel a little bit better...
There ain't nothing like regret to remind you you're alive.
Are you reading this? Do you know how much I regret EVERYTHING that happened? I regret not throwing your wallet out the window. I would have been done with you then, it would have stopped anything. Think about it in the simplest terms, I would have thrown out your wallet, therefore completely removing your identity from me. It would have been so insanely symbolic. And it is insanely symbolic that I didn't throw it out. Kind of like the millions of times I've wanted to burn everything I have that ever belonged to you. I regret not having done so before. Jesus, I regret taking French in what was it, tenth grade. Why didn't I just join Spanish? Everyone took Spanish.
When I think of it now, everything was so linked together that I know it was probably all meant to happen, except for the crazy stupid stuff after I ended it. I should have ended it and just been done with.
But now I'm taking a psych class that teaches me the entire reasons I broke up with you were utterly ridiculous and totally fixable, if I had only known anything whatsoever. So maybe it was maybe I shouldn't have ended it... But I should have ended it and I should have been done with it.
I should have never done a million things that I did in relation to you and those are the ONLY things I regret in life. All I regret is completely based on and intertwined with you. I guess it sounds like I'm blaming you for my problems, and I definitely have a case for that, but that's a waste of time. I shouldn't blame anyone for my problems.
I should be able to get through them. I guess that places all the blame on me for not being able to react like a normal, stable human being like I've always made an air of being. I've always been too emotional, you've probably always known. And you were always so aloof and now I'm aloof too but for all the wrong reasons.
It's not in my capability to fall for someone again, not right now. So there's one less thing for me to be afraid of...
If you could only see what love has made of me, I'd no longer be in your mind the difficult kind. Cause Babe, I've changed.