If it had been been me, I’d have made you crazy.

I’d sit in front of fires and cry my guts out for those I had loved and fucked up. Those who have gotten close, but I’ve managed to toss by the way side, and somehow I still convince myself it was them.

I saved you from that.

I didn’t kiss you, and you didn’t kiss me. We rode three hours home though, and we talked. But I was dreaming unrealistic hope when I brought you muffins and thought you’d be excited to see me again.

But you tell me I’m the one who messed it all up.

Like the night I asked you to your second concert, but you backed out last minute and sent me a picture of the wings to a plane as you flew across the world.

But I really did mess it all up. I honestly did my part. Playing the game of check mate.

And now I’m a plastic piece of trash in the delete bin. Fuck me, trash bin, begin again, 100% sin…

But, count your blessings.