The Fault

I really don't think you tried to make me cry. You never were that kind of guy.

I don't think you wanted to lie, but sometimes I think differently... deep down inside.

I never wanted to say goodbye, but that's a choice two people make... and it's not always mine.

I don't think there is some one or something I can blame. It makes me scared. It makes me afraid.

It's easy to push problems on to someone else, but I guess growing up is putting the "blame card" on the shelf.

I wonder if growing up means letting go? If it does, please don't tell me. I don't want to know.

I can't push the blame on the boy I can't adore. I wish I could adore him, but I can't. Not anymore.

And I can't blame him. There's nothing that could've been done. I understand why you left; just not why you had to run.

It's not my fault and I guess it's not yours. That doesn't stop me from closing all my doors.

I bet you're all alone thinking the same things I did. That you'll come to the same conclusion—in love you can't win.