I Swear We're All Mental (Listening to: Hang Me Up to Dry, Cold War Kids)

Who I am is never going to be good enough for you. I think I get that now. I don’t know how you see me, and really it doesn't even matter. Because even if you thought I was beautiful, even if you thought I was perfect, it wouldn’t be enough. You and I will never happen. I just don’t fit in with the person you are trying so hard to be. I don’t know. Maybe that is you. Maybe you are a crude flirt whose laugh is just a little too loud. You know it sounds forced. To me at least. Maybe to everyone. It’s just a little too long. I’m being mean. But I can see right through you, you know. I don’t know, maybe we all can. I just feel like I know you, like I knew you, I mean. Like you are so much more than this stupid boy with so much wasted potential. A stupid sixteen year old boy. I’m not cool enough for him. I’d like to think I am, or that it is irrelevant and that if you care about me, he will forget his friends and the two of you can become one person. But it does matter. It’s all that matters. I know that. We all know that. I guess the duplicity never occurred to me before. But it was always there, even last year when I thought everything was perfect. You were perfect to me last year. In that one class. The rest of the day, it was like that 45 minutes, that hour and a half once a week, like it didn’t even exist. Only when you were alone could you smile at me, could you acknowledge me at all. I heard you changed. It’s pathetic. You are no different than then. You learned nothing. You are the same stupid fucking boy who bums smokes off strangers and gets caught for the stupidest little shit. I heard you went to rehab. Was that another waste of time? I can’t believe this. I hate you some of the time, I swear. I really, really do. Fuck. Let me tell you something. I was a little disappointed when I heard that you had given all that up, that you were smart and responsible. I wanted to be the one to change you. I wanted you to change for me. This is so messed up. I’m so messed up. God, you don’t even talk to me now. I feel like an idiot. We’re all idiots, aren’t we. Just stupid teenagers. Mentally fucking retarded, I swear.