Just take a second to see through me, and you'll find that I can't nearly do half of what I say. It's no different. It's like I live for fucking things up, or breaking something that was working fine before. I see what you mean.
You've seen the hell that I call home while I'm away, but I make the best of it. And a lot of the time it feels like I'm living inside out but nothing compares to the way I miss you everyday.
I'll admit to being guilty of saying, "what's the difference between just one more day?" Living nightmare. And I'll admit that I'm an asshole and have a tendency of acting like a real bitch. Oh well, you'll live.
You've seen the hell that I call home while I'm away, but I make the best of it. And a lot of the time it feels like I'm living inside out but nothing compares to the way I miss you everyday.
Our fight is hard, but our love is harder. So on and so forth...