This is to anyone out there that's listening. From anyone who ever let you down and went missing; Lovers, Parents, Best Friends, and Siblings. Sometimes life conspires to make liars of good men.
I'm sorry i wasn't who you thought i was. Fuck it, I'm sorry i wasn't who i thought i was. I said no matter what, I'd always be there, but that wasn't honest because i'm not and cause that ain't how life goes. Broken promises.
Growing up, I always thought i was one of the good guys, I thought it was black and white like that; that i could nurture my good side. But i've caused hurt and i've stripped pride both on the surface and inside. I wasn't cursed with a dark side, I was just normal; Average, Regular, Nothing Special, I'm telling you. Just being human makes you God and the Devil's clear replica. I've had my emotions crushed and maybe crushed a few along the way, and at the time, I meant every single word I would say. Every word of love, and every word of hate, Every time i would adore, and every time i'd berate. But time passes, and sometimes those emotions fade.,; making liars of both the threats and promises made.
But how can a lie be a lie if you meant it at the time?
I bought a heartbreak hotel on my own, no investors. Closed it down and opened "Fuck you, get over it" bed and breakfast. In loving memories of having loving memories. Of combustible emotions, and having real enemies.
When we were fighting, There used to be thunder and lighting ; ferociously frightening, a clash of the titans. Emotions heightened, every single muscle tightened, An addiction to the thrill of the fight, the excitement.
Love at first sight always seemed unconsidered, I'd rather love at first fight, and onto double figures. An unconditional love? Well, that just means nothing, In love with the mere idea of loving something.
Always just hunting for the near-life experience. in fear of missing something vital from your own existence; all your emotions subconsciously thought out and scripted. Less about how you're feeling, and more about how you fucking depict it.
But all that stops when one day you just decide to stop playing alone... that point in time when the most amazing things in the world can just easily seem... pedestrian.
You've lost both that loving and that loathing feeling, Turns out, Hell does have a bottom and heaven, a ceiling. Both love and hate become opaque in time's wake. A face that once summons rage, now summons nothing. Whether it's emotions tethered, nerve endings severed or just the outlook you acquire when you're a little more weathered. Remaining conscious of this all, and in a way, feeling above it.. Still feels like bad riddance to good rubbish.
But is a lie really a lie if you mean it at the time? How can a lie be a lie if you mean it?