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