Now, I am certain that I am for someone else.
Now I am certain that someone else will do me better than anyone else– than you.
For I just smoked a cigarette I’ve stolen from my father’s pack.
And it was a cigarette for you –a smoke for all of your sins.
I know that we could be.
It has been a while since I was looked at that way.
I know that you are fond of me.
For unlike your girlfriend, I actually free you.
But look at what you’ve done to me.
I feel so trapped– so confused.
You’re such a thrill, but thrills are for sixteen year olds and I am already twenty one. I don’t need that much thrill anymore.
I know what it’s like to fall in love with you.
Have I mentioned how much I’ve been drinking alcohol lately?
You like how I get friendlier with wine, but that’s me slipping away.
Do you know how much I hate myself now that I am trying to hold myself back from loving you?
They say that the more you hold back, the more you give in.
And I am beginning to believe every single word they’re saying.
I can’t fall in love with you. I really can’t.
For even before we start, I have already reduced myself in my lowest form.
I’ve been drinking more than my usual.
I’ve been smoking.
I’ve been hurting.
Please let me go.
Tell me that you don’t love me.
Tell me explicitly that you have no plans of keeping my heart.
I am so fragile.
I can’t. I mustn’t.
And now I am here inside my room, my window wide open. I am smoking my cigarette for today. I can’t go on with everyday without killing myself slowly. Take pity on me and let me go.
I promise I’d be a good friend to you.
Stop trying to tease my heart.
You’re killing me.
You’re killing me and yet you’re not the one.
You are not to die for.