.retard.

Well I guess we’re here again.

Same old street, same old place.

Maybe this once I’m meant to walk down alone; never having the chance to tell you how much it meant when you said it brought back everything. Or ask you what you meant when you said I should know why it was so hard for you.

Coz I don’t understand. But I don’t want to ask because it’ll just make me tired. Of questioning the ifs and the maybes. And I don’t want to regret doing anything.

I’ll walk down the path myself this time, princess. And I’ll smile for your happiness, and knowing that everytime I smell you and turn around,

That maybe this time it’ll be you.