There's nothing more solid then the feeling of an
obligation. It's a guilt that enfolds you at every thought
of leaving, every thought of hating, every thought that
maybe just maybe it really isn't love.

You hurt me, far more then you should have. Maybe I over
reacted, maybe the hormones are taking over my mind and
jealousy erupts ten fold at the opportunities that present
themselves. 

I've always found myself to be more mature then others, more
stable and more willing to accept myself for who I am.
That's why it was so surprising that when I found out you
were taking another girl to her prom, in the state right
above mine, I found myself plotting.

We won't talk about what, because those were not some of my
greatest moments, though the ideas I have to admit, were
ingenious. 

I got jealous, very very jealous. Something I pride myself
on hardly ever being. I found myself wanting you to myself,
but I had that at one point. I could've kept it, but I chose
to ruin it.

Maybe I was selfish, or maybe I just saw ahead, saw the
truth of the matter.

Things can never stay perfect.

And we were never even close to perfect. Though we could've
been.

So trade baby blues for wide eyed browns.

But you won't ever forget about me