Don’t judge me. I gave her a shot. I thought that she’d make me happy. She made me laugh in class a few times. Everyday she sat next to me, giving more of an excuse to stare. To gaze at her. You must know what that’s like. Ya know, staring at someone. I was falling for something I didn’t understand. “What’s so great about her?” you asked. Well, I was asking myself the same thing. She looked good. She sounded good. We had a few things in common. So yes, I was a bit shallow. But how is that any different than the way you stare (ahem) gaze at me? Don’t I look and sound good to you? I bet you think we look good together too. Does he know that you think like this? Think like this about me?
I learned from my mistakes. She was unhealthy for me. We honestly had nothing in common.
Stop judging me. Me and her barely talk anymore, and if we did, it’s none of your business. Just because you handed me a key to your life’s backdoor, doesn’t mean I have my own spare handy for you to take and use whenever you damn well please.
It’s your choice to tell me everything: how you feel, what you think, what you want, what you need, how you dream. I just watch you dance around me, beneath me, like I’m your chandelier. You think I am so much more above you. That I am perfect, right? That I am a source of light that is too far out of anyone’s reach to change or touch.
“You’re like my light at the end of the tunnel,” you said once or twice.
I just roll my eyes as you fall deeper in love with your own sentimentality – something you’ll never understand (like me).