PublicEnemyNo357

It hurts to know she's different. Changed. Like, she's grown away from me. I thought what we had was special, something warm and nurturing. Turns out she was like everyone else. It hurts, of course it does, and it gives me that dodgy, nauseous, stomach twisting feeling, like when I know I have to go to the dentist but I'm afraid to open the door, then when I do I get that whiff of anasthetic and disenfectant and my heart rate rockets. Yeah. Something like that. I'm proud of her. I mean, if she thinks she's her own person, who am I to say otherwise? It just feels like I've been discarded…and I don't appreciate that, at all. I didn't do

It isn't pity, per say. It's something more than that. It's the urge to protect, to shelter, to save. Except I can't save you, can I? Not when you're so willing to swim to your death. I don't see what all the fuss is about, really. I dimly recall something once...a certain charm I guess. But it disappeared as soon as it came, and good riddance I say. How terrible! All three of us, lonely hearts, in the same boat at one time or another. Almost too much in common, wouldn't you agree? But still, I knew what I was getting into. Well, I did after the fact. And it never went anywhere. Close call. But you, and her, you're in too deep. She found he

Watch (an outsider) as you change. Saccharine-sweet (you catch more flies with honey than vinegar) and just as healthy. You drained me. You keep doing it, till the worshipers break the habit. Outsiders. I don't have a sweet tooth anymore. Don't want it, either. We see you, in your hooker heels and miniskirts, craving the attention we don't care to give. Trying to be someone you aren't, again? Or has it gone past pretend? We see you, in your hooker heels and miniskirts, and pity you. And we walk away.

They can't see your smile, the pain you cause. Do you? Do you see it? Do you practice that smile in the mirror, knowing it'll bring tainted memories to the surface? All honey and treacle and glitter. I killed that two-toned love a long time ago. Hit it with a shovel till I didn't know what it was anymore. Why do you want to give me a new one...? I've moved on, I know I have. So why does this drive me around and around, have me second guessing everything I know I know and thought I didn't? I will not go through that again. I will not. So I want off. Off this demented ride, this bizarre merry-go-round I never wanted on in the first place.