Raz
Bluelighter
So I sit here and I wonder, while we're still far apart;
When did you learn to love me?
Scabs can become scars, when you pick at them all the time.
And when they're permanent, they're easier to hide behind.
You're supposed to let them be, so the wound doesn't get infected...
But maybe it's too late for that.
I do remember good times growing up;
It's just harder to focus on that.
You're trying and I know I should too...
But it's hard to focus.
To my brother, who learned to love me after all these years,
I hope this isn't the end.
I do love you, but I love myself now as well.
Self-respect brings with it certain needs,
Like my need to know you won't compromise me
And my need to know this is real.
And my need to know that you won't need a third and fourth and fifth chance as you have before. Because I don't know if I have it in me to let you hurt me again.
The irony that threads through all of this is that our relationship now is better than it's ever been and we can barely hold a conversation.
Yet I'd rather it be this way than risk the disappointment of your betrayal.
I would rather love you from afar than risk hating you up close.
So all I can do is sit here and wonder, while we're still far apart;
When will I learn that you love me?
When did you learn to love me?
Scabs can become scars, when you pick at them all the time.
And when they're permanent, they're easier to hide behind.
You're supposed to let them be, so the wound doesn't get infected...
But maybe it's too late for that.
I do remember good times growing up;
It's just harder to focus on that.
You're trying and I know I should too...
But it's hard to focus.
To my brother, who learned to love me after all these years,
I hope this isn't the end.
I do love you, but I love myself now as well.
Self-respect brings with it certain needs,
Like my need to know you won't compromise me
And my need to know this is real.
And my need to know that you won't need a third and fourth and fifth chance as you have before. Because I don't know if I have it in me to let you hurt me again.
The irony that threads through all of this is that our relationship now is better than it's ever been and we can barely hold a conversation.
Yet I'd rather it be this way than risk the disappointment of your betrayal.
I would rather love you from afar than risk hating you up close.
So all I can do is sit here and wonder, while we're still far apart;
When will I learn that you love me?
