And a song I was writing is left undone, I don't know why I spend my time, Writing songs I can't believe. With words that tear and strain to rhyme.And so you see I have come to doubt All that I once held as true, I stand alone without beliefs. The only truth I know is you. And as I watch the drops of rain Weave their weary paths and die I know that I am like the rain, There but for the grace of you go I.
Don't give up. I'm only starting to see the gravity of your situation. the extent of your damnation. In short I don't blame you for your frivolous disposition. I blame myself for not being enough to change it. That came out wrong. I can't, nor do I want to, change you. I just wish I was insentive enough to make you wish to change. Or maybe change is non-existant. I want you to grow. You're playing a static and stagnant role whilst I am flourishing and thriving. I know I'm not the same as I was when we were first in love, but the change is amplified relative your inert stance. I've always cared about you, but that too has been altered by the hand of circumstance. I've known countless feelings for you, attachment, love, lust, caring, anguish, concern. I've always felt something for you. Now it's stronger than ever before. No more silly juvenile notions of "love". I care for you like a sister, a mother, a lover, a friend. You say you don...
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