It's taken me three years or more to get comfortable with myself, I spent all of high-school pretending to be someone else.
It's taken me three years or more to change into my skin, even though I had friends I could never really fit in.
It's taken me three years or more to get over you, you told me you loved me and I told you I loved you too.
It's taken me three years or more to get this off my chest, sometimes I still hear your voice echo in my head.
And I'm sick, of being left out in the rain, I feel like a waste of space when you call and tell me that, I was never good enough for you or any one of your friends, broken bones that you can't mend, and I hope on Friday night you lie in bed thinking about all of the boys that you kissed.
And we've both grown so much, ever since we broke up
I haven't spent many nights at home, I've been driving my car around the city alone and I, just can't help feel sick, underneath all my skin, cause there's no home remedy for the feeling when you don't feel a thing
And I'm coming to terms with
Maybe I'm not meant to be happy
And I think I've learned
That sometimes you can't be
And I'm coming to terms with drinking too much, because you used to be my crutch, I'd put you to my lips but at least a drink would never rip my heart out of my chest
It's taken me three years or more to get comfortable with myself, I spent all of highschool pretending to be someone else.
It's taken me three years or more to change into my skin, and now I'm as lonely as I've ever been