He looked at me, his coal, grey eyes hopeful I would change my mind. That I would give him that second chance. But he'd hurt me, he'd hurt me so bad.
I didn't want to leave him, but I'd heard the words
“I can change” before and never have they proven true at all.
I paused, deep in-thought. I told him
“I can't do this, not anymore” and left him standing in the pouring rain.
The water fell, hiding his tears, saving him what small dignity he had left.
Now two months later, my life is down the drain. I'm feeding an alcoholic addiction to hold back the haunting memories of you. But no matter where I turn, I always see you.
You finally did it, you made it big. Now I wonder – Could you really have changed?
Or would a worse fate have met us if I chose to stay?