I'm never gonna know you now...

I'm trying to understand you, to get you. To see your thought process. The only thing I can come up with is that in some sick way, you were playing a game. You were competing with me. It's way too easy to blame it on alcohol. Don't think for a second that you can chalk it up to that. It goes much deeper than that. Something inside of you my dear is quite rotten. Infected.

I'm not upset about the boy. You know... the boy you orchestrated me "hooking up with". The boy was disposable. Although for the past couple of months you've been a royal pain in the ass, I thought you were a keeper. I chalked your erratic behavior and piss-poor morals up to your recent "divorce". A dysfunctional phase that would pass after you'd satisfied whatever itch you needed to scratch. But that is enough talk about you. This may be shocking... but you are not the axis with which the world revolves, though your shallowness is quite epic.

Let's focus on me because with me in your corner, you can sleep easy. I'm an asset. I'm a sure thing. Sure to be there. Guaranteed to love and support you. You just didn't get it. You just don't get it. In your ever-changing/revolving world (bed), I am a constant. Plymouth freakin' rock or Shorty Roc, which ever you prefer. I don't have it figured out, but I do know... I am stronger because I have friends like this in my life. I choose to devote my energy on my friendships instead of dudes because that dude will only satisfy that itch for several seconds (a lil longer if you're lucky).

I know you're sorry. I know you wish you could take it back, but you can't. Maybe someday I will find forgiveness for you. I'm guessing at least 5 years from now, maybe more, maybe never. I will say that I am feeling a bit erratic now myself... So try to keep your distance as best you can. Being that the cesspool you call your bed is only 8 doors down, this might be a challenge.