And ever so quickly, I lost everything. And the hardest part isn't that I wished and wished, or that I tried so damn hard and it wasn't good enough, or that I truly believed everything would work out for me because I thought I was worthy and it was my turn. The hardest part is that I have to be okay with it. I have to gather myself together (after an embarrassing display of emotions) and move on. I have to study my ass off for finals. I have to write at least ten more essays. I have to smile and shrug and say, "Oh, well. I guess I wasn't meant to go there." And act like I believe it. I've lost it all.
Maybe I've forgotten the name and the address of everyone I've ever known. It's nothing I regret, save it for another day. It's the school exam and the kids have run away. I would like a place I could call my own and have a conversation on the telephone. Wake up every day, that would be a start. I would not complain of my wounded heart. I was upset, you see, almost all the time. You used to be a stranger and now you are mine. I was a short fuse, burning all the time. I wouldn't even trust you; I've not much to give. We're dealing in the limits and we don't know who with. You may think that I'm out of hand, that I'm naive; I understand. On this occasion, it's not true. Look at me, I'm not you. Just wait until tomorrow, I guess that's what they all say just before they fall apart.
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