I like the look in her eyes. It spells hatred. It spells loathe. That look is far more intense than the little love she ever showed me, and that's why I love it so much. I really wished her back for long, I really wished we'd laugh at the same things again, share the best pieces of music and literature again, cry at the little sentimental portions in films, again. But it won't happen. And its taken me a while to realize, I didn't want it to happen either. Because? She's not the same person any more. She didn't believe anything and everything that came her way. She didn't condescend to authority just because she was told to.
She didn't want to get a position because it spelled power. She didn't want to stay with the best people because it'd bring up her image. No. She was none of that. She pretended to be strong, brash and stoic on the surface. And yet again, she was none of it.
But there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew
All the things you'd say, they were never true, never true
And the games you'd play, you would always win, always win
But you know what made us stick together for so long? We were a bundle of contradictions. We didn't know what we really wanted, we didn't know who we really were. The difference today is, today, I do, and she still doesn't.
Why do you think people drift apart? Do they change as persons? Does one undergo a metamorphosis while the other stagnates into somebody no one ever knew. None at all. The only difference is how they look at each other. When you hate somebody, even the most earnest smile from them seems like a dagger thrust down your little, vulnerable heart.. You would kill to get back to the start, but then you know, your best friend has changed. And today, you cannot even face her with malice burning in your heart. You still have a little bit of "us" remaining inside you, but you try very hard to erase the memory. And I threw us into the flames.
Every gorgeous picture of you framed together seems like a lie, a farce, a make believe. You look at her smile in the pictures and ask yourself whether she really meant any of them. When she stayed up with you all those nights, when you discussed all your small fantasies, all your stupid crushes, now you ask yourself, how many times had she been genuine? But you know, you did have a past, a rather beautiful past actually, it was only the present that had been distorted beyond compare. The present and future that had been ruined into a picture no one wants to look at again. Ever.
So where will you go? In which corner will you hide? Or will you, like me, keep asking yourself, whether you'll really survive without her? Your confidante, your sister, your best friend, your favourite enemy, your lover, a piece of your heart? Maybe you will move on, or you will simper and sob. After the regular simpering and sobbing, you will pretend to move on, you will pretend to think everything will be alright, you will make yourself a little emotionally closed because now you will not anyone penetrate inside your pretty mind that easily, now you will not let anyone get inside your heart and paint its corners black so easily. But you will be trying hard not to think, that you won't be you anymore. Without her. Without a little bit of yourself.
And I threw us into the flames
When we fell, something died
'Cause I knew that that was the last time