This is what I should have said to you

You're lonely. Don't bother to deny it. I know after a night of drinking and laughter, chasing after skirts, you return to the cool dimness of your room and close your eyes to sleep. You can't sleep though for two reasons: you didn't drink enough and you feel the loneliness circling in on you, surrounded by four white walls. But you don't really realize that it's loneliness, you think that it's something else. You think maybe it's because that girl at the bar with the cute pink dress was flirting back, making you smile, or maybe you finally realize how much work you have to get done tomorrow when you wake up.

But no, it's that quiet solitude that you enjoy so much, that solitude that you use to protect yourself from letting others find out who you truly are. You use it to keep others out so that when they leave you or when you leave them, you can lie to yourself and say you didn't care anyways. It's that quiet solitude that attempts to choke you and no matter how many girls you fuck, you won't be happy. You blame everything, that stupid ex that was talking to other guys or your mom who spoils you, making you think you deserve every goddamn thing that comes your way. And no matter what you do, unhappiness dogs your every step.

This is what I should have said to you, not because I wish this upon you but because I know, I know you'll always be lonely, clutching your heart away with both your hands, and I know you'll be unhappy, even if you have the perfect girl and the perfect life. It's in your desecrated blood.