I hate the way I go into a jealous rage
when I see a picture of him, and worst of all,
I hate seeing your smile with it,
knowing he's the reason for it.

I know, I know.
I promised myself; "I want you to be happy."
But that isn't all that true.. Let me clarify:
I want you, to be happy here...
with me.

Not thousands of miles away from me, no.

I want you here, sitting with me on this couch.

I want to make you smile...
I want to make you laugh...
I want to be the one that preoccupies your mind,
not him.

And every moment, every milisecond you're with him,
I break my own heart.

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