Ever since I was a kid, I was a liar.
Ever since I said I admired you, I promise I didn't.
Every time I wished you well, I hoped you fell flat on your face.
Every time you see me, I pretend you're a figment of my imagination and inch my body the other way.
But I am kind to you and I do compliment you.
But honestly, I don't care if you're present in my life; I've never truly liked you.
And how can this apathy not be mutual? I apparently "spazz" out too much and make your anxiety level rise. Why the HELL would you want to stay friends with me? Out of desperation? ...
I thought so.
I could say, "It's not you it's me" but I'd be adding to the fiction.
Because you are not the answer to my happiness hun...
You are an obstacle that I don't want to overcome and a person who I'd rather not waste the clock on.
Because you are the epitome of Now and Later taffy:
You are chewy and you rip my teeth out.