Wish that you were here. Everything seems more clear with you around. I care less about things I shouldn't care about. You make sense.
I don't know what to make of it, I'm just glad that you'll be fine. I should've protected you better, but well, it's too late to think about that now.
I'm troubled. I don't know what to make of this. I feel it's my fault, for blowing things up. But would it have been better to be just simmering beneath the surface? Maybe I'm in no position to decide that.
When you're here, when I'm feeling your heart beat, when I have your hand in mine, when I'm surrounded by the love that I know all too well, it will be alright. You have always been, the only one who could make me stop crying.
