there are so many things i'd love to get off my chest.
so many things i'd like to unload on you, but it wouldn't do an ounce of good.
done is done and grown up is grown up and enough is about god damn enough.
and most of the time i can keep it pushed down,
i can keep it down but then again sometimes...
when you see a certain scene in a movie or
you hear a song that reminds you of too many nights...
sometimes you're just talking to an old friend,
and the edge of it comes back.
but only the edge and i've got to thinking--
i'm tired of being someone that things happen to.
makes me feel so shriveled and weak and i'm better than that.
so you see, love, it's not that i'm trying to hide anything from you,
or that i think i need to, it's only that...
there's no point in dwelling on any of it anymore.
and i am not damaged goods.
and i am not a goddamned train wreck.
and i do not need to be saved.
but i would like a hand sometime, dear, and...
i'd like to think you'll be waiting there with open arms.
