Your eyes look so bored, but I remember how they used to look before. The lines under them now...you're looking for the words or the way out. I'm sleeping alone and dreaming of buzzes from my telephone. Which worries you more: that I'll leave you, or that I won't? I have changed, but my love still feels the same. I cried until I was sick. What would it take to convince you that it's worth it. How long has it been since everything good became "I remember when..." so shoot me with your words. It isn't even half what I deserve. Which scares me more: the idea of forever, or the pain of alone. You can't be the only good thing in my life. So I'm letting you go. I'm letting go. You're not mine.