I was stubborn.
I thought the problem wasn't that I had bad judgement,
it was just that you didn't live up to my standards.
But if you trace it back,
to where we first met,
I realize that it was all my fault.
How could I ever charge you guilty?
It's your own fault that you took this path,
but it's my fault for worrying about you still.
And yet I can't stop.
It's been long enough
since I swore to give up on you,
but I still have these panic attacks
where I can't remember who I am
or who you are
or why I'm alive
I lose track of the world's beauty
and I try to find myself time
and time again.
I wish I could let go
and become my own person.
It's time for my own flower to bloom,
and the only thing holding it back is me.