Yesterday I finally found out that I was always most comfortable around you.
You were the one that I could always count on.
But it maybe too late now.
Too late for words, too late for regrets.
But I still do hate the way you get jealous over how I treat my friends.
I have different ways of loving.
I have different ways of loving.
And the way you get angry over it every single time is starting to push me away.
It is tearing us apart.
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