It is not you, it is not me.
This what happens when you grow a little bit older.
You forget the little things and the things that mean.
And that is how most people grow a little bit colder.
It is not your fault, it is not mine.
I could already predict the end before it happened.
It was all in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I could tell we were not going to be friends as I imagined.
We were duped, we were victims.
Mentally preparing for the dangers.
Maybe it is me to blame for my dumb predictions.
Emotionally preparing to become strangers.
We were young, we were foolish.
This heartbreak was easy to predict.
A pain so acute and so grueling.
This closure will be us ceasing to exist.
